


Moon Bound

by salacious



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alpha Natasha Romanov, Alpha Steve Rogers, BAMF Natasha Romanov, BAMF Steve Rogers, Background Relationships: - Freeform, Bucky/Wanda - Freeform, Eventual Smut, F/M, It Has Lots of Warnings & Explanations, Mating Cycles/In Heat, NOT Omegaverse Compliant, No Predestined Soulmates, Please Do Not Skip the Disclaimer Chapter, Sexual Tension, Tony/Pepper - Freeform, Werewolf AU, clint/laura
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-24
Updated: 2018-12-17
Packaged: 2019-05-28 02:04:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 25,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15038279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/salacious/pseuds/salacious
Summary: Natasha Romanov lives in a world where females choose the strongest male wolf to mate with - so far, she has found none worth her time. Land means power and she has plenty of that, but having land means nothing if she doesn't have the numbers to protect it.Steve Rogers has the land and the numbers - he just doesn't have a mate. He swore off them after he failed to protect his, ten years ago. But an Alpha without his partner is a dangerous Alpha and per his best friend's insistence, he attends the Annual Lunar Ceremony; speed dating for wolves.Their bonding was just for convenience, a means to an end, and when emotions start arising, so do enemies.





	1. D I S C L A I M E R

Hello!

I am relatively new to this fandom (writing-wise, at least!) and when I came up with the plot for this fic I was not aware that werewolves in Ao3 were Alpha/Beta/Omega-centric (basically, I didn't know that Omegas were the only ones that could mate with Alphas.) So, because of that, I apologise; this story does not follow the Alpha/Omega relationship. ~~Hopefully, people will still wanna read it, lol.~~

I will be using a mix of mythologies (mostly Greek/Roman) to explain some things. Alpha is mostly associated with the male leader and I have decided that calling Natasha Alpha Female is just a mouthful -  _I_ _ **could**_ _call her Alpha but I'm also being influenced by Wattpad because I'm utter trash._ Therefore, the female "alpha" is known as the "Luna" in this story. I will explain the origin later on, but it's a mix of Greek/Roman beliefs. _It's a bit sweet._

The Luna role is not really matriarchal. Yes, she's the "mother" of the pack, but she's not the one that stays behind cooking for the men after a long day fighting. The Luna (in this story) is very much involved with pack duties. She's basically an Alpha with a different title. Think of it as equal rulers/leaders (that aren't plagued by the sexist beliefs of the patriarchy.) Natasha will be fighting alongside Steve and even kill a few people.

I will try to keep things as believable as I can, but for the sake of justifying some of the plot, I will make things up;  _like pregnant females cannot shift because it could result in fatal consequences for both mom & pup._ 

Steve is a little OOC in that he's brooding and hesitant to open up to Natasha.  _ ~~He also has scars because I'm a slut for men with those.~~  _And his look is  _very_ influenced by Infinity War because  _damn Captain Daddy!_ Natasha is also a little OOC, but she's still badass. 

I will be writing smut; can't have sexy wolves without some sort of steamy content (in my opinion, ofc. I'm just dirty minded through & through.)

Most of the Marvel cast is included in this. Like, Captain America: The Winter Soldier & Captain America: Civil War, I just didn't feel like writing them all out up in the characters tag. 

Please don't skip over the author notes because there will be emotional scenes that I will warn you of in the notes. They're a bit rough, so please try not to ignore them. Even if things seem to be going down the drain, I will write a happy ending.

I will be posting the first chapter tomorrow (Monday, June 25.)

Hope you guys enjoy the craziness I have prepared!

xx, salacious


	2. U N C O M F O R T A B L E → T E N S I O N S

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a slightly heated argument with her Beta, Natasha agrees to attend the Lunar Ceremony.

The oak trees were a blur as she ran through the woods. Her paws dug into the soft dirt and the cool soil wedged through her claws. It had rained all day with a bit of sunlight near the end, until the sunset darkened the sky, and it left the woods smelling beautiful.

All the fresh scents of the woods were mixing, creating a plethora of aromas. The flowers seemed to give the most distinct fragrance; the scent was sweet, so sweet that her enhanced senses made it possible for her tongue to almost taste it.

That’s why she loved the rain, loved running through the woods after a huge downpour. Everything was wet, rejuvenated and full of colourful vigour. During the rain, everything was cloudy and sad, but once it stopped raining and the vegetation around absorbed the life given by the water, it was amazing to watch.

Natasha stopped for a second, watching as a droplet of water slid down a leaf and unto the ground. She heard the soft thud of the water sinking into the ground and it absolutely amazed her. She wasn’t sure she would ever get used to being a wolf, what had started off as a curse for them ended as a blessing to her.

She took off again, at such a quick speed it almost looked like she was flying through the forest. Her hind legs pushed harder, increasing the speed and making her pant. She smiled wolfishly, her eyes burning with determination as she jumped over logs, zig-zagged through trees and dodged boulders.

Under the pale moon, her fur coat seemed to glow. Various parts of the red coat glimmered a beautiful shimmer that made her seem as majestic and beautiful as she was. Her run through the woods had been for fun, to release some pent-up aggravation that had been building over after her fight with Jasper. And as she returned to the packhouse, her stance while beautiful was almost very predatory.

Her legs moved slowly, one paw in front of the other as she kept her gaze focused on her surroundings. She shifted back, her paws turning into hands and feet and her bones cracked under the pressure of the change. It wasn’t painful, at least not anymore. It was almost a pleasurable sensation, something she wholeheartedly embraced and accepted as second nature.

Although nudity was not something that made her uncomfortable, she always tried her best to undress before shifting. There was no sense in destroying clothing if she had the time to bare herself. Rarely did she have to shift immediately, but if given the time, she preferred folding her clothes before embracing the primal beast within her.

Gemma sat by the stairs of the pack house, cradling her baby boy in her arms as she hummed an old traditional lullaby. When she became aware of Natasha’s presence, she smiled up at her Luna and bowed her head in reverence. “How was your run, Luna?”

Natasha pulled a leaf out of her hair, patting the long curls down as she smiled at the young girl. “Just what I needed. How is William doing?” She peered down at the small boy and smiled warmly.

His eyelashes were resting atop his cheekbones and his hand was curled around his mother’s index finger. He breathed in deeply, the little thump of his heart sending an instinctual motherly rush down her spine.

“He just fell asleep,” she whispered, love and adoration shining in her eyes.

Gemma had been forcefully taken by members of a European wolf pack that had been staying with a southerner pack of the area. They abused her sexually, beat her until they thought she was dead and claimed no fault when confronted.

The young girl fled, she was only seventeen, had _just_ gone through her first shift and was sadly forced into the world with such a sad beginning. She walked through the outskirts of the neighbouring packs until she collapsed from exhaustion just outside the Romanov pack.

Melinda tended to her wounds, took care of her like her own daughter and Natasha vowed that she would be protected if she only stayed. After the kind hospitality from Melinda and Phil, there was no way the girl wanted to face the cruel world by herself again.

She became a faithful member of their small pack, almost like the younger sibling they all didn’t have.

Laura walked out of the house angrily, she slammed the screen door behind and ran her fingers through her hair exasperatedly. Under her breath, she growled and muttered curses, pacing on the porch as she totally ignored the other two females.

Natasha raised an eyebrow, her green eyes crinkling at the sides in concern. “Laura? What’s wrong?”

“Your freaking Beta is about to get poisoned!” She hissed, her brown eyes darkening in anger.

“What happened?” She pressed her hand against her friend’s shoulder, squeezing affectionately as she tried to calm her down.

Laura tried to breathe again, the gold iris around her eyes flickering away as she managed to handle her emotions. “I was cleaning the dishes and the asshole decided to throw the stash he kept in his room in the sink just as I was finishing. I told him that he would have to clean it up and he responded with _that’s not my job_.” She hissed a breath in, stroking her hair once more. “Maybe I won’t poison him, but it really made me mad.”

Natasha sighed but smiled sweetly. “I’ll talk to him.”

She shook her head. “No, you don’t have to. I just…I’m a little on edge with all the wolves near the border for the stupid ceremony tomorrow.”

This time, she sighed but her smile fell. “Trust me, I know the feeling.”

Laura and Gemma had a similar introduction to the Romanov pack. Gemma was a couple of years younger, but Laura has suffered months with her abusive mate. Jack Rollins. Natasha remembered him as if she had ripped his limbs one by one, just yesterday.

During a run, she encountered Jack angrily fighting with Laura. He smacked and punched her, kicking her abdomen as Laura fell to the ground and tried to shield herself. The moment he stepped over the boundary line, Natasha mauled him.

His blood filled her mouth as she ripped his leg off. Then came his arm and had she been more in control of herself, she would have ripped his fingers one by one slowly. After the kill, she learned that Laura didn’t shift to defend herself because she was pregnant with his pups.

According to her, that had been the centre of his anger. He didn’t believe that the pups were his and decided that abuse was the best way to go. He had been a member of Brock Rumlow’s pack and he – surprisingly – did not care that she had unceremoniously discarded of the bastard.

He also didn’t care that Laura renounced the Rumlow pack to join Natasha’s – and that was one of the biggest reasons she always cringed when Jasper insisted that she choose him as her mate.

Rumlow was strong, he had decent numbers to protect her pack, but he was sloppy and impulsive. He didn’t see her as his equal, but as a piece of land that would grant him more power – and that was the sole reason Natasha argued with her beta for the past week.

“I’ll be fine,” Laura smiled, it was small, but it was a smile nonetheless. “Things just seem to anger me a little more right now.”

“Last time I checked, we did not assign any chores to people. If you dirty a plate, you’re responsible for cleaning it. I’ll talk to him,” she assured, squeezing her shoulder again before entering the house.

Melinda and Phil were sitting in the living room, watching a house remodelling show and discussing which house they would pick if they had the money for it. For a short second, Natasha felt guilty.

They could have left the pack. After her family was slaughtered, their numbers of hundreds of wolves dwindled to what they had now. Eight wolves. Had it not been for Nicholas Fury claiming protection over her, the surrounding Alphas would have jumped at the chance of taking the land.

But Melinda and Phil were loyal to her parents, absolutely adored them and they never, not even for one second, doubted their loyalty to the young girl. Others left the moment Tatyana and Ivan were killed. Others left when her brothers died and then, the only one left to take the Alpha title was Natasha.

She was sixteen when it happened. She could vividly remember the screams and the shrieks as the Shostakovich rebels attacked her family. They had infiltrated the pack, befriended her family, learned their secrets and then used them against the Romanovs. All because one of their ancestors had been killed by a Romanov decades before her family had even been formed.

When the massacre happened, Phil and Melinda hid Natasha and defended their future Luna with teeth and claws. She owed them her life and so much more, they were practically her adoptive parents. Fury was too.

He trained her, moulded her into a young Luna. He gave her all the tools she needed, the tools her parents hadn’t finished teaching her how to use. In exchange for her protection, he wanted her to train with his wolves, wanted her to be one of the best in hand-to-hand combat if the need for it ever came. It was a reasonable exchange, it showed just how much he cared for her.

Everything she was, _who_ she was she owed to Phil, Melinda and Fury. Her parents had given her the foundation on how to be a good person, and _they_ had used that foundation to shape her and guide her through such a tumultuous time.

Jasper sauntered into the kitchen, wiping the back of his hand against his mouth before nodding at her in acknowledgement. “Back from your run?” It wasn’t really a question, it was just a way to start a conversation after the heated argument they had before.

She knew what was coming, too. Knew that he was going to keep insisting that she go to the Lunar Ceremony tomorrow and force herself to accept Brock Rumlow as her mate. But she kept her face impassive, just waiting for the topic to come up before she continued to say that she wasn’t interested.

 “Yep,” she opened the fridge, looking inside for a bottle of water. “Heard that you gave Laura a bit of a headache just a few minutes.”

He shrugged, rolling his eyes. “I was _joking_. She took it to heart. I washed the dishes and that’s that.”

“Not everyone agrees with your sense of humour, Sitwell,” she responded, her voice was tight; right on the verge of frustration.

“Their loss.”

Natasha drank the water, the only sound between them was the occasional gulp as she refreshed her throat. The tension between them was obvious, she knew the look in his eyes, knew _what_ he was going to say.

_He’s a good Alpha. Everyone in the pack loves him._

_He’s strong, has the numbers to protect your parent’s land._

Not _her_ land, but her parents. As if she wasn’t going out every day trying to patrol the borders with Matt and Peter, as if she didn’t hear enough complaints from The Council, telling her to share the land, to not be greedy. She didn’t have the _numbers_ , didn’t have the wolves that others had.

She didn’t have the numbers because they all decided to leave, they all thought that she wasn’t the strongest Romanov, they thought that she was cursed – that _she_ had been at fault for the downfall of the Romanov empire.

It was ludicrous, everyone knew that the Shostakovich’s had been the ones to murder her parents, she just hadn’t shifted yet, didn’t have the strength to fight back – and for that they blamed her.

Natasha would be the first Romanov _female_ to lead a pack. It had always been the Romanov male to run the pack, the Romanov girls had been given off as a bride to a neighbouring pack or kept as the bride of the pack beta.

It had been a dumb tradition, the girls were just as capable, but the traditionalist wolves in the pack didn’t think so. They doubted her strength and in turn, left her vulnerable. She would show them, though, that she _was_ strong. She didn’t have the numbers, but she sure as hell would fight with all her might before the Romanov land was given off to traitors.

A pack that was made up of about three hundred wolves had dwindled to ten and only five of the members were from the original pack.

“Rumlow is excited for tomorrow, would be a shame if you just left him hanging. A shame and highly unprofessional of you.”

Natasha raised a perfectly arched eyebrow. Her impassive expression turned into surprise with a hint of anger underlying the surface. “ _Unprofessional_? Is this a business meeting? Since when did I _agree_ to meet with him?!”

“You didn’t,” he sighed, exasperatedly, “I told him you were going. You need to mate with a strong wolf, he’s one of the strongest in the area. He will protect you and care for you! What else could you want?!”

“Rumlow is impulsive, he is _not_ tactical. Mating with him would just make me miserable. I _refuse_ to live an unhappy life just because you think it’s what’s best.”

“So, your happiness is above the pack’s security?! Your parents would have-”

“You weren’t here,” she seethed, squeezing the bottle in her hands in anger. She was having a hard time controlling her emotions, but he was pushing at all the right buttons. “You did not know my parents, you didn’t know what they thought was right. If I thought I really _needed_ to mate with someone, I would choose a man that would not question my decisions.”

He scowled, his eyes darkening. “Decisions are meant to be questioned if they’re not what’s best for the pack.”

“Are you saying that my decisions are based off a whim? That I don’t think about it before I _make_ it?!”

Melinda and Phil had paused their show and stood by the threshold of the kitchen, cautiously waiting by in case they needed to intervene.

Jasper breathed in deeply, squeezing the bridge of his nose as he struggled to vocalise his thoughts in a way that wouldn’t cause the angry she-wolf to attack him. “That is not what I’m saying, Natalia-”

“Do not call me that,” she hissed. That name was reserved for those that knew her intimately.

Jasper Sitwell did not know her intimately. Had Fury not assigned him to be her Beta, she would have chosen Matt. She didn’t question his suggestion because he was wiser, he had helped her when she needed it most but _dammit_ Jasper seemed to hit at all her wrong buttons.

“I’m sorry,” he sighed. “I just…I want what’s best for the pack and my instincts are telling me that Rumlow is the one you should choose.”

“And my instincts are telling me that he’s not the right one,” she countered softly, a silent threat in her words if he kept questioning her decision.

Jasper scowled, not liking the hidden threat behind her tone of voice and turned on his heel. The back door slammed shut behind him and Natasha immediately sighed, rubbing her temples tiredly.

She stalked over to Phil and Melinda, needing some sort of comfort from the elderly members. The immediately hugged her, squeezing and stroking her back sweetly.

“I know he’s right,” she mumbled against Phil’s chest. “I _know_ that we’re vulnerable if I don’t mate with a strong male. Everyone wants this damn land, but Fury claimed protection over us and as long as I have that, I will hold out for my chance at happiness.”

“We know, _daragaya_ ,” Melinda whispered near her ear, squeezing her tightly, “and we want you to be happy, too. Phil and I agree that Alpha Rumlow is not…he’s not what’s best for this pack.”

“And Jasper needs to understand that, yes, you have duties to your pack, but you also have duties to yourself. If you believe that Alpha Rumlow is not someone that will respect you, then do not force yourself into that union,” Phil added, running his fingers through her hair in a very fatherly manner.

“However,” Melinda sighed, “we _do_ think that you should go tomorrow. Not for Rumlow, not for Jasper, but for _yourself_. You might be surprised and meet someone that is a worthy partner.”

She nodded, stepping back to look at them. “I _know_ that I can’t keep relying on Alpha Fury for protection, but dammit I haven’t found any formidable partner. I haven’t found anyone that has made me feel comfortable with wanting to form a union.

Melinda reached to caress her cheek gently. “Then do the same as them!” She elaborated, “Form a union based on convenience. Find someone that will respect _you_ and your decisions.”

Natasha nodded and gnawed on her bottom lip, looking vulnerable for a short moment. “Does that make me a bad Luna? Not wanting to mate with the first man I see because I don’t want to be miserable the rest of my life?”

“Not at all!” Phil said quickly, “It makes you _smart_. If _you_ don’t think they are an appropriate choice, then trust your gut. The she-wolves choose their mate for a reason. You have a right to be picky, it’s not just your life at stake; this decision affects your pack members and your future children. Be smart about it and trust your instincts, Natalia. Whatever you do, _whoever_ you choose, we will be with you every step of the way.”

She smiled, the light in her eyes quickly returning. She straightened her back, her confidence recovering. “In another life, I swear you guys were counsellors.”

They laughed, loud and warm, and _happy_. “We just want what’s best for you.”

“Alright,” Natasha sighed, though she still smiled, “I’m going to ask Laura to help me pick out an outfit for tomorrow. I don’t make a promise that I’ll have a chosen mate, but I promise to make an effort.”

Melinda kissed her forehead, smiling widely. “That’s all we ask, _daragaya_.”

“And, who knows,” Phil winked at her playfully, “you might be surprised at who you meet.”

In another life, they might have been counsellors or psychics – because she was _truly_ surprised at the magnificent man she met.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Daragaya - Russian for "dear."
> 
> Gemma, William, & the Shostakovich's are characters I made up. They are not supposed to be MCU characters.


	3. B I G → B A D → W O L F

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Bucky threatens to create him an online dating profile, Steve agrees to attend the Lunar Ceremony and meets a beautiful redhead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To avoid any confusion, know that the beginning of this chapter is a flashback/nightmare. It begins in Steve's POV and then changes back to Natasha's (still in third POV, of course, just showing a bit of Steve's background.)

_Everything was white._

_The trees and their leaves, the ground and the rocks. Even the sky was completely white, it was almost blinding. The blanket of snow draped over the barren land field, making it almost impossible to cross to the other side._

_They had been walking for hours, the snow now reached up to their knees and although they were struggling to walk through it, they kept pushing through._

_The woman tightened her hold on her babe, trying to warm him with her body since she could not shift and carry him._

_He was about four and even though he was cold, he had beautiful rosy cheeks. His eyes were an ethereal blue, the type that captivated and astounded, and his soft curls were a golden colour; he resembled a small angel - and to his mother, he was that and so much more._

_A few feet ahead of him was her husband, the father of the child she held and the pups she bore. He helplessly looked around, searching for shelter and food, searching for a way to keep his family alive._

_His beard was frozen, ice clung to the facial hair after facing such low-temperature conditions and chilled, hard wind. His lips were blue, chapped and thin, and his face had thinned, all the meals he skipped to feed his children truly showing how much they had taken a toll on him._

_Even though he seemed frail, he was strong. He had to be because if he wasn’t, his family wouldn’t survive the violent winter they were facing._

_He should have waited until spring to confront Johann Schmidt, should have waited until Fury could have given them asylum after being exiled from the pack, but he couldn’t wait._

_Joseph couldn’t sit back and watch as innocent wolves were slaughtered by his Alpha – no Beta in his right mind would have stood by as children were stripped from their mother’s arms and wives were forced to watch their husbands burn at the stake before being brutally beaten and raped._

_He couldn’t risk his family being next, even if his rank would have protected them. Johann Schmidt was on the verge of losing his mind, he wanted to annihilate the wolves that weren’t of pure blood. The hybrids; the ones that were turned and not born as wolves._

_What kind of father would he be if he allowed his son to grow up around that environment?_

_That’s why he couldn’t sit and wait for Alpha Fury to grant him safe passage. His conscience didn’t let him just sit and do nothing. He hadn’t expected the outburst, but once it came, he knew that he would protect his family no matter the cost._

_And Sarah, poor Sarah, didn’t complain, didn’t blink an eye when he ordered her to grab Steven and rush out of the house. She didn’t say anything as Johann forced her family to walk into the snowy woods, away from safety and into brutal exile._

_In fact, Sarah rubbed Joseph’s back and kissed him, told him he was doing the right thing. She became his strength, his absolute support whenever he realised that things just kept getting worse and worse._

_His original plan had been to ask Fury for help, to join his pack and grow old with Sarah, while their pups grew into healthy, strong wolves._

_But as fate would have it, his plans had been thwarted and he has been forced to watch as his family crumbles by his side._

_Joseph stopped walking and shushed Sarah when she worriedly asked what was wrong. He was on alert, his stance defensive as he looked around, trying to find the threat that was making the hairs on the back of his head stand on end._

_The attack was so quick, they didn’t have time to prepare. One second, he was looking around, ears perked as he tried to listen intently and the next he was shifting, ripping his clothes from his body just in time to lessen the impact of the blow._

_He skidded across the snow, the hard crust of ice and old snow, dug into his fur, poking at his skin and he yelped. The bobcat stood in front of his family, his tail swinging slowly side to side as it circled its prey._

_Sarah winced, holding Steven close to her chest and watched with wide eyes as Joseph used whatever strength he had left in him to pounce on the beast. It growled, pawing at him as it bared his teeth in a show of defence._

_Joseph growled, but he was no match for the large predator. The lack of food and proper shelter was taking its toll on him. He didn’t have enough energy, enough stamina to_ sound _intimidating. He had gone days with just scraps of food so that Sarah and Steven could eat whatever he was able to hunt._

 _Most days they had to survive off nuts he found scattered or an unlucky hare that crossed their way. But it wasn’t enough, not enough for him_ and _his pregnant wife._

_They circled each other, eyes focused as they danced against death. The bobcat growled, a sound so ferocious, Steve would never forget it. Joseph snarled in response, curling his lips over his teeth as he attempted to warn the animal away._

_“_ Dadaí _!” Steven cried out, his arms reaching for his wounded father._

_Crimson blood covered the ground, mixing with the untouched snow around him as the bobcat clamped its jaw down on his neck. Joseph whimpered, a loud yelp escaping his mouth as he limped again, staggering against the animal as it sank its canines down_

_“Joseph!” Sarah cried out, a sob wrecking through her body as tears welled in her eyes. “Joseph!”_

Steve awoke with a gasp. His shirt was drenched in sweat, strands of his hair sticking to his sweaty forehead. He let out a low groan, stretching his arms and looked up at a worried James. “Bucky?” His voice rasped, low and barely recognisable. “Is something wrong?”

He shook his head, sighing as he pulled out a chair and sat across him. “You fell asleep in the office; wanted to wake you before the others got worried.”

“Sorry,” Steve winced and ran his fingers through his damp hair. “I barely got any sleep last night.”

“Nightmares?” He nodded in a silent response and Bucky sighed.

“Wanda comes back tomorrow night, right?” He stood up, grimacing when his muscles tensed in protest at the sudden movement. Sleeping over his desk was one of the most uncomfortable things to do, but it seemed that reading over the renewal of the pack treaty between his neighbouring packs was the best way to make him fall asleep.

Bucky nodded, smiling at him. “Trust me,” he sighed, “I can’t sleep without her either.”

He chuckled, a rueful smile curling his lips as he uncapped the bottle of Irish whiskey Tony had bought him last year. “You miss her for sexual reasons; I miss her because, without her spells, I can’t sleep.”

“I’m getting you a recording of her chants for Christmas,” he joked, taking the glass Steve offered.

“Hey, whatever helps me sleep at night.”

Bucky mumbled something against the rim of his cup, barely audible. Steve _knew_ what he said, they weren’t best friends without reason, but he wanted him to say it, wanted the little bickering over his solitude of ten years.

“What?” He tilted his head to the side, a perfectly arched blond eyebrow. “I didn’t quite catch that.”

He sighed, rolling his eyes as he took a swig of the alcohol. “Agh,” he grimaced, but still loved the bittersweet taste of the whiskey, “I _said_ that there are other ways you could sleep at night; one that wouldn’t make my mate have to come to your room every night.”

“Bucky…” he sighed, a dejected sound, the type that was full of weariness.

It wasn’t jealousy; Bucky knew how much Wanda meant to Steve, knew that her magic was one of the few things that could keep Steve’s demons away, but when Wanda was gone, visiting her family in other packs, Steve would barely sleep at night.

The nightmares were too vivid, the memories of everything that his family endured too intense to allow him a decent night’s rest. He wasn’t just worried about his Alpha, he was worried that his best friend would end up killing himself from the exhaustion.

“It’s been ten years, Steve. I think…” he spoke slowly, cautiously, “I think you should consider your options.”

Steve sighed, walking back to the whiskey to pour himself another glass. He downed the cup in one gulp, grimacing at the taste, but not quite hating it so much that he stopped drinking. It was a bittersweet type of taste. “What options, Buck?”

“Tomorrow-”

“’m not going to that damn ceremony!” He grumbled, annoyance brimming in his eyes.

“Then join a fucking online dating site, Steve!” Bucky stood up, slamming the cup on the wooden desk. Had it been anyone else, Steve would have probably ripped their throat with his bare hands, but it was Bucky, it was the only man in the world that could hit him where it hurt, and he would willingly take it. “Do _something_! Don’t just wallow around and be miserable! Your solitude is not only a risk for your mental health, but it’s also a risk for the pack. A Luna doesn’t just give you pups, she also helps you bear the weight of the responsibility!”

He gritted his teeth, eyeing him warily. “You do that well.”

“I’m just your Beta! I help you the best I can, but dammit, Steve, there are things that _I_ can't fulfil for you! You can’t just shut everyone out.”

“I don’t shut everyone out,” he bit back, huffing indignantly.

Bucky gave him a look, his face full of irritation at his best friend’s stubbornness. “Remember what happened to Alpha Callahan?” Steve froze, wincing at the memory of his fallen comrade. “How being without a Luna drove him so mad he almost killed his pack members?”

“Callahan had a weak-”

“Stop making excuses!” He hissed. “Steve, I _worry_ for you! We all are! Peggy wouldn’t have…” he trailed off, the sadness of his friend’s unfair death clouding his thoughts. Bucky gulped, clearing his throat and softened his voice. “Peggy would have wanted you to be happy, would have wanted you to find someone that could help you lead the pack.”

Steve sighed, squeezing the bridge of his nose between his index finger and thumb. He rubbed the dip underneath his eyes and sagged his stance. He absolutely hated it when Bucky brought her up, abhorred thinking about how he could hear her voice agreeing with Bucky because he _was_ right.

Having a Luna would help him immensely. He could have someone to trust and share his burdens, a partner that hopefully would stand by him for a lifetime.

“If you really don’t want to go to the ceremony tomorrow,” Bucky began, a hint of humour creeping in his tone, “then I’ll take matters into my own hands. I’ll open a goddamn Christian Mingle account for you! We’ll mention how you’re an insufferable, stubborn punk and that you turn into a huge slobbery dog whenever you want. I’m sure the ladies would love that!” He lowered his voice, muttering to himself. “Should probably send you with mints when you decide to shift in front of them.”

“Oh, for Christ’s sake!” Steve groaned, running his fingers through his thick hair. “Fine! _Fine_! You win! I’ll go to the stupid ceremony and be miserable all day.” Bucky beamed, a smile so bright it could put Colgate out of business. “And, for the record, I wouldn’t make a profile in Christian Mingle.”

“No,” Bucky laughed, “you’re right. You’re more like a Craigslist type of guy. Post an ad and hope for the best.”

Steve punched his shoulder playfully, letting out a smile now that the tension was gone. “Shut up, you jerk!”

He slung his arm over his Alpha’s shoulder, squeezing his best friend affectionately and accompanied him outside of his office.

Clint walked by, holding two sandwiches in one plate and biting a third one with his free hand. Tucked under his arm he had a cold beer and a bag of Cheetos. He grinned at them, nodding in acknowledge of their presence and offered one of the sandwiches on his plate.

“No thanks,” Steve shook his head, pulling away from Bucky’s tightening embrace.

“Got him to agree to go to the ceremony tomorrow!” Bucky cheered, slapping Steve’s shoulder playfully.

“What?” Clint widened his eyes, “Seriously? Awesome! If you don’t find anyone for you make sure you bring someone back for me!”

Steve rolled his eyes, chuckling quietly as he entered the kitchen. Bucky followed with a wide grin on his face as he scrolled through his phone. He raised a curious eyebrow. “What are you doing?”

“Texting Wanda, need her to give you some fashion advice.”

“Oh my god!” He guffawed out a laugh, shaking his head as he laughed at him. “You guys are acting like I’m going to find the goddess of wolves there!”

He shrugged. “Doesn’t have to be the goddess of wolves. I think I speak for the pack when I say that at this point we’re willing to accept any she-wolf.”

“Even Kristen?” He raised an eyebrow, his lips curling in a mischievous smile.

Kristen used to be a member of Bucky’s pack – the pack he belonged to before he became Steve’s Beta. She would torment him, always bossing him around and he never did or said anything because she was the daughter of his Alpha. She acted like a spoiled princess and Steve was sure that it was because she liked Bucky, but he never returned the feelings. It was definitely a strange way to act around a crush…

“Okay,” he muttered, shivering at the memory of her, “definitely _not_ everyone!”

~*~

When Natasha arrived at the clearing, everything was already in motion. Wolves were already drinking the alcohol like it was water and chasing the females like horny schoolboys. She shivered, grimacing at the atmosphere of hormones and tightened her grip on her plaid shirt.

The music thumped loudly through the speakers, vibrating through her as she avoided the big crowds of people. She really wished Laura could have come, but the event was solely for higher ranks. The only person she could bring was Sitwell and he was currently searching through the masses of grinding bodies for Rumlow.

She was beginning to think that Sitwell just wanted her to bond with him, so he could secretly confess his crush on the impetuous Alpha.

One of the biggest reasons she didn’t want to attend the ceremony was because it was basically an excuse for them to participate in a massive alcohol-induced orgy. What had started off as a civilised way for single wolves to meet each other, turned into what she imagined high school parties were like.

She had been home-schooled by Fury and she, surprisingly, wouldn’t have traded it for the world. She didn’t have to deal with the stereotypes of group clichés and she was able to focus on her studies, rather than on the gossip on who was screwing who. Although, that _did_ happen in the pack…

Natasha sighed, turning to the table of refreshments and grabbed a water bottle from the ice cooler. For some reason, she suspected that the wolves in charge had spiked the alcohol just to add a bit of spark to the hormones, which in her opinion was totally not necessary. The bonding wasn’t just to fuck, it was also something that had to be practical and people seemed to lose all practically when they were drunk off their asses.

“Bunch of high schoolers,” she muttered to herself, twisting the bottle cap off to take a small sip.

“I’ve been out of high school for years, but this definitely takes me back.” The man next to her commented. He looked down at his bottle of water and shook his head, sharing the same annoyance she felt at the unruly display of inebriated adults.

She raised an eyebrow, not turning to fully look at him and sighed. “Guess we’re the party poopers of the party.”

The corner of his lip turned upward in a half smile and he nodded. “Bucky would definitely agree with you if he wasn’t too busy looking through the crowd for the _perfect female_.”

“Good luck,” she snorted out a scoff. “My Beta is out doing the same. I just think he likes him for himself but can’t bring himself to admit it.” She shrugged, finally turning to look at the man standing beside her and felt a blush creeping up her neck. At least it didn’t show on her cheeks.

Had she known that Steven Rogers was the one standing next to her, she would have kept her bitter comments to herself.

She didn’t know much about him, just rumours. Mostly that he ate children for breakfast, but that came from men that didn’t like his way of leadership. He would accept anyone into his pack, anyone that was different or rejected; the _outsiders_.

The little bit that she knew of him that was _factual_ was that his mate had been killed by a group of traditionalists ten years ago. She didn’t know all the details and she didn’t believe the gossip spread by judgemental rumourmongers.

“Ah,” He cleared his throat, frowning to himself, “I should’ve introduced myself before I shared my bitterness at being here.” He turned his body to face her, a small, lopsided smile that seemed a little forced. Not because of her, but because it was obvious that he was uncomfortable being there. “Steve Rogers.” He offered his hand and she grinned as she shook it.

“Natasha Romanov.”

“Miss Romanov,” he repeated, almost like if he was tasting her name on his tongue; wanting to sound it out and part of her felt a strange thrill rushing down her back at the sound. His voice was low, husky and very suggestive even though she knew his intentions were clearly not to entice her.

“You can call me Natasha,” she offered, smiling in his direction with what she hoped was a friendly curl of her lips.

He nodded, not saying anything else, but didn’t move away from her. She wasn’t sure if that meant he would be comfortable speaking to her or if he just wanted to share his thoughts on the ceremony and then go on his merry way.

“Do-”

“So-”

They spoke in unison and Natasha broke off into a grin. “Go ahead!”

He shook his head, his lips pressing in a grim line. He knew better than to interrupt a beautiful lady when they were speaking. “I’m sorry, I interrupted you.”

“Steve,” she smiled, “we spoke at the same time. Go ahead. I don’t mind.”

He sighed, nodding his head and then gulped. He was obviously nervous. He was holding onto the bottle in his hands tightly and if he squeezed any tighter, she was sure it was going to burst and wet them both.

“Hey,” she raised her hand hesitantly, just hovering them over his. He looked down at her hands, his blue eyes full of curiosity as he gazed back up at her. She immediately wanted to comfort him. “It’s alright. How about we go sit over at the benches?” She nodded in the direction and he allowed her to lead the way.

“Sorry,” he cleared his throat, creasing lines forming on his forehead as he gulped, “I just…I haven’t done this in a while.” He felt like he truly _was_ back in high school. His heart was threatening to crawl up his throat and his hands felt clammy.

Had she been a little less captivating, had she been a little less stunning and a little meaner, he would have left without problems.

But that _was_ the problem. She was stunning, the incarnation of a goddess with her big green eyes and long red hair. For a second, he wondered if she was a witch that put a spell on him, but he realised that it was just _who_ she was. It was her scent and her smile, the way that she seemed in complete ease around him.

“Then that makes two of us!” Natasha beamed, sitting down on the wooden bench, “I’ve never gone on a date.”

He widened his eyes momentarily, in utter disbelief that she had never been on a date. He wasn’t one to feel insecure around beautiful women, but she just stunned him, left him feeling like a complete idiot at how effortless everything seemed for her.

“I find that a little hard to believe,” he managed to croak out, finally regaining his composure.

Natasha let out a pretty laugh, chiming and carefree. “It’s a _little_ hard when you’re running a pack and all.”

He puffed out a breath he wasn’t aware he was holding. “Truer words have never been spoken.”

“So,” she tucked her leg under her weight, turning to him with a pretty grin as she played with the bottle in her hands, “tell me a little bit about yourself, Steve Rogers.”

The tension came back, the slight fear of fucking everything up and scaring her away. It wouldn’t be the first time. Most she-wolves weren’t particularly fond of all the mean scowls he always wore. They just didn’t understand that it was a type of self-defence mechanism, the fewer people that were in his circle, the less he would lose.

_What a wonderful Alpha he was!_

“Ah,” he placed the bottle on the ground, clenching his fists at his side, “what would you like to know?”

She shrugged. She definitely wanted to ask about the small scar on his face. It ran from the end of his left brow to the top of his cheekbone, right underneath his pretty turquoise coloured eyes. She wanted to ask about his mate, she wanted to ask about the rumours and why – after ten years – he decided to attend the tedious ceremony.

But she could tell that he was uncomfortable, on edge and really nervous. She wanted to befriend him, make him feel comfortable enough that they could explore whatever the hell was happening between them.

She couldn’t quite explain it, but she was definitely drawn to him. His demeanour and how he didn’t seem to worry about how showing emotions made him look. He didn’t hide that he was nervous, maybe he wasn’t good at it, but she _liked_ it. Loved knowing that the fearless Alpha next to her, the one that had accepted everyone and always received backlash from The Council, wasn’t hiding from her. She liked that he seemed more worried about speaking to _her_ than he was about showing how strong and macho he was.

“The basics,” she finally spoke, “tell me your favourite colour. Your birthdate, what your favourite song is, your hobbies, anything. We’re going old school, baby!”

That got a small chuckle out of him. He liked her, liked her casualness and how she spoke to him like a regular person and he _definitely_ liked that she could tell he was uncomfortable because she wasn’t pushing him. She wasn’t asking about all the things he was uneasy sharing.

“I don’t have a favourite colour. Green is nice.” It had _nothing_ to do with the shade of her eyes. Not at _all_. “I don’t know,” he shrugged, answering as sincerely as he could, “I think every colour has something unique about it.”

“Except yellow,” she deadpanned, but the smile on her lips told him she was joking, “it totally washes me out. Makes me look like one of Dracula’s brides!”

Steve laughed quietly, his shoulders shook at his laugh rumbled through his chest and he nodded. “It could be the artist in me speaking, but yellow reminds me of brightness and happiness. It’s such a hard colour to work with, but I don’t know,” he shrugged, “it’s not a colour I hate.”

“Ooh,” she wriggled her eyebrows, “an artist! What do you do?”

He looked away from her, smiling down at his hands a bit shyly. “Just a bit of woodwork, nothing too fancy.”

“Gonna have to show me one day, Mister Rogers. I’ll be your best, most unbiased judged.”

His heart picked up speed at the images that flickered in his mind, but he prayed that she couldn’t notice the change in his heartbeat.

She grinned at him, holding her pinkie in the air. “Promise.”

“Deal.”

“So,” she brushed her curls back, behind her shoulder, “what about your favourite song?”

He frowned, trying to remember any song that he liked. While he was lost in thought, she admired him, his chiselled and rugged beauty. He was wearing a long sleeve sweater, it didn’t seem warm enough to make him uncomfortable in the cosy temperature and it clung to his muscles nicely.

His facial hair was trimmed perfectly, not a strand of hair seemed to be out of place and she wondered if it felt as soft as it seemed. His hair was long and thick, but not long enough that it went past his neck. It curled around his ear and she was tempted to reach out and tug at it.

“I’m not sure,” he frowned, “I can’t think of just one. I listen to anything, really. I’m simple.”

Simple was _not_ the word she would use to describe him.

Muscular? Yes.

Beautiful? Ethereal? Godly? Yes.

 _Anything_ but simple!

“And your birthday?” she tilted her head to the side, wanting him to look at her again. His eyes were beautiful, not quite a dark shade of blue, but close enough that it totally charmed her.

“July 4th, 1985.”

Before she could begin to answer any of his questions, Rumlow stalked in their direction. He was drinking a can of beer and absolutely reeked of alcohol. He had probably been there longer than any of them just consuming alcohol like his life depended on it.

“Ooh, my sexy little Russian pup!” He slurred, swaying on his feet in front of them. “Come on! Let’s get out of here and have some fun.”

Her nose wrinkled in distaste and she moved away from him, not quite close to Steve but still not away from the rugged wolf. “Rumlow you’re drunk.” Her voice was curt, completely different than how it sounded when she spoke to Steve.

He watched quietly, not feeling that intervening was his duty. At least not yet. If Alpha Rumlow became physical, he would immediately show him _where_ his hands belonged, even if Natasha didn’t ask him to.

“So, what?” He grumbled, “My cock still works!”

She rolled her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest. “You should talk to your doctor about those details, not me. Now go off and bother some other poor girl.”

“Why are you with the Alpha freak?” He all but whined, still struggling to stand upright. “Don’t you know that he’s what good little girls like you should run from. He’s the big bad wolf!”

Steve raised an eyebrow, just watching him from the bench. He didn’t feel threatened at all and that seemed to slightly irritate Rumlow. In fact, he almost felt pity for him, he seemed desperate to get Natasha to himself and the expression on her face spoke volumes about how she felt about him.

“I’m not a little girl.” Her tone was clipped, her eyes flashing between anger and composure. She didn’t want to fight, not now when she was trying to make good on her promise to Melinda and Phil.

“Oh, baby,” he grinned sleazily, looking down at her body, “I _know_.” He reached down to grab her hand. “Come on.”

A low growl rumbled through Steve’s chest. He didn’t move from his position, but he was tense as he looked at Rumlow’s hand grasping Natasha’s wrist.

The sound surprised Natasha so that she froze on the attack she planned against Rumlow and he immediately released her.

“Whatever,” he spat, suddenly sounding completely sober. The asshole was acting drunk. “Freaks should stay with freaks.”

Natasha bared her teeth, curling her lips over them as she growled loudly. “Go find someone else to bother!”

He scowled, turning on his heel like a wolf with his tail tucked between his legs and she sighed, turning to look at Steve.

“I’m sorry for the growl,” he spoke quietly, his eyes not leaving Rumlow’s retreating figure. “I didn’t like the way he touched you.”

“It’s fine,” she smiled, sounding a little cheerier, “thank you for not causing a scene and going all alpha male on me. I had it handled, but really, thank you. It’s good to know that you had my back.”

Steve gave a curt nod, his jaw clenching in annoyance as he continued looking at the impetuous alpha. He barely knew him, and he already didn’t like him. They were on opposite sides of their land, so rarely did he hear his name mentioned in pack meetings.

But after the stunt he just pulled, he definitely did not like him.

“Hey,” Natasha stood up, smiling down at him, “wanna get out of here?”

His gaze snapped up to hers, a flash of curiosity dawning in them. His expression was unsure, almost as if he was silently asking if she truly wanted to be alone with him. Apparently, he was some big bad wolf that had to be feared and he wouldn’t hold it against her if she left.

He’d actually be more surprised if she stayed talking to him all day!

A smirk grew on her lips, a suggestive smile that spoke volumes. “I think we should play a game, Steve Rogers.”

“What type of game?” He grunted in response, his voice throaty from the rush of adrenaline that spiked through him because of Rumlow as he eyed her suspiciously.

“I run,” she bit her bottom lip, the silent challenge obvious in her eyes, “and you chase.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for the overwhelming support! I'm glad you guys are giving this little draft of mine a chance! Whatever isn't answered in these chapters, will definitely be answered throughout the story. I don't want to give everything away and over-stuff the chapters. xx


	4. I N S T I N C T U A L → C H A S E

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After chasing her through the woods, Steve learns that he will chase Natasha the rest of his life if only she asked him to; in other words, he's fucked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was a little hard to write because I realise that Steve is written in a way that may come across as awkward and stuttering, that isn't my intention. I just wanted to show he feels inexperienced and no matter how many times I rewrote it, I kept getting the same result. I just decided to post this and hope for the best!

Steve was silent as he followed her to the outskirts of the party. He was nervous, kept sliding his hands up and down his dark jeans as his eyes skittishly looked around for Bucky. He wasn’t experienced enough for this, he needed his wingman to remind him that Natasha was _just_ a woman.

A very beautiful woman that reminded him of a goddess. No biggie.

He could try to talk to her without biting his tongue off. Well, as long as she wasn’t looking at him with those doe-like green eyes or smiling at him like a temptress that wasn’t even _trying_ to seduce him, it just came to her effortlessly.

Natasha turned to look at him, a smirk curling on her lips as she began to shrug the plaid button-up shirt off. It wasn’t buttoned, the crop top she wore underneath was on full display, giving a peak of her toned abdomen as she began to undress.

“Now,” she began, her tone as playful as the smirk on her face, “I don’t undress just for _any_ Alpha, Mister Rogers, so, consider yourself lucky.”

This was a test. He knew it now, she was testing whether he would be a good partner, he just didn’t understand _how_ undressing in front of him was any type of test. Was she testing his restraint? His ability to become aroused? Fuck, he hated tests.

His eyes didn’t move from hers, though. He was too entranced by them, totally under her spell as she continued looking at him with dark, hooded eyes.

Natasha pulled the white crop-top over her head, ruffling her curls in the process and then unbuckled her jean shorts quickly. She didn’t mean to striptease for him, it had genuinely started off as a way for her to shift and undress, but was there any way to undress in front of a man like him and not feel your inner prowess wanting to make a slight appearance?!

“Alright,” she smiled at him, running her fingers through her hair in a subtle attempt to cover her breasts. It wasn’t that _she_ was uncomfortable, she just realised that undressing for him the way she had might make _him_ uncomfortable. “Your turn…if you want, of course.”

Steve nodded, clearing his throat and reached for the hem of his sweater. He pulled it over his head and took the wooden pendant from around his neck to lay it on his shirt. His eyes didn’t meet hers as he pulled at the belt buckle and unbuttoned his jeans. He wanted to desperately look at her and hope that she wasn’t looking at him in fear or disgust.

He hoped that she understood that to be an Alpha there were things he had to do, terrible things that left scars on his body, but those terrible things, he didn’t regret. He didn’t regret the scars either, didn’t feel insecure about them because they were reminders of what he lived and survived, of the strength he had when it came to protecting his pack.

And he was so busy hoping that he passed whatever fucking test this was supposed to be, that he didn’t hear the way Natasha’s breath caught in her throat. It wasn’t because of fear or disgust, it was because he was absolutely ethereal.

His body was packed with defined muscle and decorated with beautiful tattoos. They were swirls and knots, symbols of his heritage and others that she couldn’t quite decipher but hoped she would get the chance to ask about.

They covered his right arm completely, down to his wrist and wrapped around his arm. On his pectoral muscle, he had the Celtic symbol for the tree of life, it was right on the centre of his pec and the rest of the symbols wrapped around his deltoid muscle, up to his clavicle and around his broad shoulder.

She wasn’t sure if they were meant to intimidate, but they certainly did. Maybe it was just the way he poised himself. His shoulders were hunched, tensed as he stood undressing and she completely ogled him.

Down the side of his oblique muscles, right by his well-defined abdomen, he had three long lines that she assumed were from a fight with a wolf. They were long and demarcated, the colour almost silver and a dusky pink.

For a moment she wondered if it hurt and she held the urge to trace it with her fingertips, to comfort him if he even needed it – and that’s the moment she knew that she was fucked, and he hadn’t even done anything.

Steve stepped out from his jeans, completely naked now and waited for her to say anything. She was admiring his body, it was sculpted to perfection and the slight wisps of hair across his chest, down to the fuzzy happy trail line on his toned abdomen, just made her weak at the knees.

It might have been weird to associate his bit of body hair with maturity, but in her mind, the two correlated and she wanted a reason to justify her obvious attraction for the older wolf. _Not that she really needed any justification; his abs said enough._

Her eyes continued ogling him, noting all the scars and discoloured welts that told the story of Steve Rogers that she still didn’t know, and she felt a blush heating the rim of her earlobes. She kept the surprise at his body’s natural reaction off her face and just kept a small smile on her face.

Oh… _oh_ , had _she_ done _that_ to _him_?!

The erection could have been a reaction to the sudden lack of clothing; maybe he was cold? _The day feels wonderful, Natasha_ , the little snarky voice in her mind chided, almost goading at the possibility of his… _massive_ arousal.

Natasha cleared her throat, smiling at him in what she hoped was a reassuring smile. She hoped it was reassuring and not revealing her perverse thoughts. God, she was really contemplating having her wicked way with a man she barely knew! “Game is simple. Like I said, I run, and you chase. If you catch me, you win.”

“And, if I don’t?”

“Well,” her lips curled up in a wolfish smile, “I win.” She turned on her heel, willing herself to shift and embrace the primal side that was eager to make an appearance.

Steve shifted right behind her and she took right off. He didn’t give her a few seconds to get an advantage. This was his test, he had to prove something and even though he wasn’t sure what it was, he was going to prove it.

It was like a primal dance of seduction. She was beautiful and fast, her powerful legs barely grazing the ground as she practically flew through the trees. She had the advantage of being familiar with the woods, she knew where to turn and how quick to jump. She knew the place like the back of her hand, but Steve was inexorable.

Where he lacked in knowledge of the region, he made up for in strength and instinctual hunt. There was just a hair of distance between them, something that _he_ was allowing to happen because he loved the thrill of the chase, loved the little howls she gave, almost like she was laughing in the most carefree way possible.

He loved the colour of her fur. It was almost a dirt brown red, coppery with the undertones of natural brazen highlights and it seemed so soft. If he just reached out his paw he could feel it, but he wanted to chase her a little longer, wanted to feed off the energy she was giving off.

Natasha laughed inwardly. She could _feel_ his proximity, hear him panting right behind her in cool, spaced out deep breaths. He was panting, but he wasn’t lacking any oxygen, it was just the loudness of his huffs. It vibrated through her, reminding her of the reason for the chase.

She was testing his willpower, testing his strength and his stamina; she wanted to make sure that Steve Rogers didn’t just have a fearsome reputation for being different, she wanted to make sure that _if_ she chose this man, he would be the right one.

Steve nipped forward, his canines grazing the soft tail swinging in front of him her and she let out a little squeal. It wasn’t a sound of pain or discomfort, it was almost like she guffawed out a wolf laugh.

Her tail swiped across his face with a little more oomph than necessary. It didn’t hurt, but she definitely struck the chord she wanted in him.

He growled, not a sound that made her worry about him hurting her, but it was definitely threatening. He was truly going to chase her now.

_Oh, little wolf, it’s on now!_

She dodged a branch, but in mid-jump missed her footing and stumbled into the clearing. They were surrounded by trees, a few metres away from the border of the neighbouring pack and she realised that she was trapped – or maybe that had been her plan all along. To bring him to the edge of the pack borders to trap _him_.

He swore she smiled at him as she panted, trying to catch her breath as the adrenaline rushed through her veins, pumping blood and excitement through her body. She rolled her tongue out, licking the air in a curved motion and he frowned, not understanding the sexual undertones she inadvertently sent.

Natasha began to walk in circles, never taking her eyes off him as he began to follow her lead. She was testing his hunting skills now, wanting to make sure that he could actually catch her.

A loud grumble vibrated through him as he looked at her with dark eyes. His stance was primal, ready to attack and before she knew it, he was pinning her to the ground. His body was heavy, larger than hers by a considerable size, and she shivered.

Experience told her she should have been afraid at the way he bowed his head, daring her to move or test him again. This was the most confident she had seen him. She _felt_ like she should have been afraid or even threatened, but she didn’t. She felt at peace, protected, and maybe, a little enigmatic.

Steve didn’t look away from her, he kept her captive under his body and intense gaze. He didn’t know what the hell was wrong with him, why he had to growl and attack her to show her that she was no longer in charge. It could have been the alpha in him and although he knew she meant no harm by the playful nip she bared at him, he felt a strange thrill coursing through his body.

He wanted to sink his teeth in her, make her squirm under him until she submitted and became his – that’s when he learned how truly dangerous she was. If she decided that he was not good for the bonding, he would be pining after her; he knew that after her, no other she-wolf would compare.

He barely knew her, yet he was ready to claim her as his and that’s precisely why he should have stayed away from the ceremony. He had been afraid of not finding someone that would take any interest in him, but now that he found one, he didn’t know what was scarier.

Having _no_ potential candidate or having a candidate that could _potentially_ not choose him.

Natasha began to laugh, but it came out as a wheeze and she trembled under him as her laughter overtook control of her body. Steve – if possible – frowned and watched as her face began to morph back into her human form.

He worried that something happened to her, that her wheezing sound stemmed from pain, but she was just _laughing_. It was loud and melodious, like wind chimes in the distance, and the sound shook him straight to his core.

She kept laughing under him, almost giggling at their current situation but she never looked away from his dark eyes. He slowly crawled off her body, carefully stepping over her voluptuous curves to stand back and look at her.

She wasn’t sure why she was laughing, didn’t even know what the hell came over here. There was just too much emotion surging within her and if she allowed herself to focus on what she truly was feeling, she would probably cry, so she settled for laughter.

“Ah,” she sighed, wiping the lone tear sliding down her cheek, “that was fun!”

Steve didn’t shift, he just kept looking at her with his dark eyes. Back when he first shifted, she didn’t have the time to admire how beautiful he was. His human form was godly, almost like he had descended from some Greek god, but his wolf form was just as breath-taking.

His fur coat was thick, and it looked so soft she contemplated sitting up to slide her fingers through the mane. The colour was beautiful too, a deep brown that almost looked black. It made him intimidating, the colour and his height, the power that he exerted even though he was looking at her like she was _everything_ he wanted to worship.

And he did.

The only thing he could think about was how beautiful she was.

His mind had gone totally blank as he stared at her. She was laying on the ground, right in front of him, totally naked and she, quite frankly, looked like she had just stepped out of a painting done by one of the greatest artists in time.

Her hair had twigs and leaves sticking out, almost like a laurel of leaves crowning her a goddess. Her cheeks were smudged with a bit of dirt, reddened by their run and her eyes were staring up at him with a glint in them that he couldn’t quite understand.

It seemed to be a mixture of seduction and playfulness that could potentially make him lose his cool and pin her under him.

Steve stepped forward, just moving one paw toward her as he kept his eyes locked to hers. His ears twitched, picking up the vibration of wolves running nearby, their paws pounding on the ground as they ran through the woods.

They weren’t particularly near, and they didn’t seem to be heading their way _specifically_ , but the mere thought of someone catching a glimpse of her nudity did _something_ to him. It sparked some irrational anger that he couldn’t really hide.

Natasha raised an eyebrow, tilting her head to the side in curiosity as he let out a low growl and turned to her with an intensity burning in his eyes. His lips curled over his teeth as he bowed his head, almost as if he were pointing to the ground with his nose and she grinned up at him.

“You want me to stay here?”

His head jerked up and down in response and she let out a quiet laugh. He knew he had no grounds to be _territorial_ over her. She wasn’t his mate, wasn’t even his friend, but dear god, did he want her to be. It was irrational and completely unlike him.

But the only thing he could think about was fate, as cheesy as it sounded. Why, after refusing to attend to the stupid Lunar Ceremony, for years, did he suddenly cave in and find a woman that he was seconds away from worshipping?

Coincidence? Fate? Stupidity?

He wasn’t sure, he didn’t care, and he refused to overthink it for much longer. He had to get her clothes and make sure that no other wolf saw what he wanted as _his_.

Was it truly irrational for him to be so territorial? The she-wolves were the ones that made the final decision, but in a sense, this was a fight to survive. He had to prove that _he_ was better than the other wolves, that _he_ would protect her and be a reasonable choice for a lifetime partner.

Natasha bit her bottom lip, watching as he abruptly turned and zoomed through the woods. She raised an eyebrow, smiling to herself at his speed. He had held back when he was chasing her and although part of her was slightly bothered that he hadn’t shown her his full potential, she was also intrigued by whatever else he was hiding.

Naturally, she should have felt a little bothered that he had ordered her; their ranks were equal, and they barely knew each other, but obeying him made a thrill rush through her. The submission was probably not meant to be sexual, but that’s how her body decided to react to his show of power.

She sat up, placing her hair over her breasts and curled her legs in a way that slightly hid her nudity. She wasn’t uncomfortable being naked, not many wolves were. It was part of their nature, _who_ they were, but she also understood the primal need to drive away any competition away.

Had she been in his position, she would have probably wanted to fight away any wolf that threatened the borderline of their comfortable proximity.

Steve returned shortly after. He was walking back with her clothes and his sweater slung over his arm. His jeans were hanging dangerously low around his hips, the belt buckle undone along with his buttons. She all but relished in the view.

The man was a work of art in his own damn right. It was like the gods had chosen all of the physical things she liked on a man and made Steve Rogers.

“Thank you,” she grabbed her clothes and began to get dressed.

She glanced up just in time to catch him staring. His eyes were dark and the way he ran his tongue over his bottom lip made her want to shiver. He _liked_ what he saw and unlike the first time she stood naked before him, he didn’t look away.

Natasha slowly slid her jeans up her legs, struggling a bit when they reached the thicker part of her thighs and mischievously grinned up at Steve. She crossed her arms over her chest, still grinning at his captivated expression.

“Looks like you won.”

Steve snapped out of his reverie, forcing his eyes away from her strong and feminine legs. “What did I win?” His voice was an octave lower than usual and it made her heart skip a beat in her chest. She did _not_ expect the comment to sound so sexual.

She quickly composed her surprise with a secretive smile. “We’ll see.”

He nodded, pressing his lips in a firm line. He understood the unspoken truth behind her words. He had wanted to know if he had passed the test if she was willing to give _them_ a try, but her answer was simple. _We’ll see_.

“So,” he cleared his throat as they began to walk back to the ceremony, “what’s your favourite colour?”

Natasha beamed, happy that he was trying to get out of his shell a little more. She liked that, he was _trying_. “I think I don’t have a favourite colour either. I think they’re all great in their own way.”

“Except yellow,” he reminded her, with a mirthful glint in his eyes.

“Of course,” she grinned.

Steve slid his hands in his pockets, rubbing the jean material with his thumbs. “What about your birthdate?”

“Ah,” she bit her bottom lip, “that’s not something you ask a lady!” Her tone was playful, masking the slight uneasiness that took over.

It was not uncommon for wolves to have large age gaps, it wasn’t something that bothered her, but there was a possibility that it might’ve bothered Steve.

His eyes slightly widened, realising that he probably screwed things up between them. “Sorry, I didn’t-”

“I’m kidding!” The corner of her lips turned up in a sly smile. “November 22nd.” He nodded quietly, clearly wanting to know the year, but not wanting to outright ask her. Natasha grazed her teeth against her bottom lip, her suave composure cracking under uneasiness. “I’m 23,” she blurted out.

His expression fell for a microsecond before he managed to cover it up with solemnity. He was quiet for a full second, a heartbeat that felt more like a heart attack. She confused his sadness at her having to lead a pack so young with _disliking_ the ten-year gap between them.

“I’m sorry, Natasha.” He finally broke the silence between them, his eyes overflowing with emotions that she couldn’t decipher.

“That I’m so young?” She raised an eyebrow, the unbothered Alpha expression she wore whenever she was in pack meetings taking over. He was too good to be true, anyway.

Steve frowned, lifting his hand to place it on her shoulder and stop her. She looked down at his hand, then up at him with an arched eyebrow and he hesitated. “I’m not…I’m sorry that you’re bearing a burden like this so young.”

Her tone was cool, formal when she responded. The warmth that they had developed over the time they spent together slightly cracking under the anger bubbling inside of her. “What burden?”

“Leading a pack,” he explained, “I became an Alpha when I was 28. I lived my life a little before taking charge of these responsibilities.”

 _Oh_.

He wasn’t worried about her being _young_ , but her being _young_ and having to deal with shit like the Annual Lunar Ceremony.

“I’m not saying that you’re not capable!” He quickly blurted out, part of him recognising the wariness in her face. Her age was probably a touchy subject and he was screwing everything up by being unhappy that she did not get to celebrate her youth and be reckless and learn from those mistakes. “I just-”

“I get it,” her voice was quiet, the warmth returning. The tense and defensive stance she had taken slowly dissolved away into comfort. Her shoulders weren’t hunching anymore, her eyes weren’t looking at him like icicles waiting to pierce through him.

There was so much he wanted to say, so much that he wanted to _explain_ and share and just _get to know her_ , but it seemed that their time together was coming to an end.

“Do you have a favourite song?” He blurted out, a last-second attempt to go back to their light-hearted conversation.

Her smile was small but sweet. She was young, but she was wise. He could see it in the way she carried herself, in the way her eyes crinkled at the sides, in the scars on her abdomen and back that told an untold story; a story that he was way too eager to know.

“I’ve never had a favourite song. Anything that evokes emotion, I guess. Even if it’s sad, I’ll like it.”

They reached the clearing, just standing by a tree to watch the drunk wolves running after giggling she-wolves and Steve watched the faint glow of the moonlight shining down on her. His mind was screaming, _demanding_ that he do something, that he _fix_ what he might have broken between them.

He was panicking, he wanted to take her in his arms and beg her to give him another chance, to let him apologise for making her feel whatever it was that upset her.

While he was worried about it, Natasha had long forgotten it. She was the one that misinterpreted his words, his saddened expression, so it was truly up to her to fix what she broke in her.

“Well,” she inhaled deeply, turning to him with a sweet smile, “I think this concludes my stay at this shitshow.”

_Will I see you again?_

_Did I get my hopes up for nothing?!_

He bit back his tongue, just looking at her as he tried to engrave every little detail of her face in his mind. If he never saw her again, he at least had his memory to help him savour the night.

For a second she contemplated whether to hug him or kiss him or even touch his arm lightly. The expression on his face made the decision for her. Maybe he didn’t mean to show it, but she was glad to know that she wasn’t the only one feeling intrigued.

She took a step toward him and smiled inwardly when he visibly tensed. Natasha stood on her tiptoes, lifting her hand to press against his chiselled cheek. She was happy to know that his facial hair was as smooth as she thought it would be.

He wondered if she could hear his heart thudding in his chest because it was beating faster than it should, and if she noticed, she thankfully didn’t make a comment about it.

When her lips pressed to the apple of his cheek, he shivered lightly, staring at her with a small smile when she slowly pulled away.

“We can count that as part of your prize.” Her warm breath brushed against his lips, the proximity making him dizzy with lust. He wanted to lean down and kiss her, devour her until he was satisfied; until he was the only thing on her mind.

He _wanted_ to, but he didn’t.

He just watched her walk away until the trees hid her voluptuous form.

He was fucked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's okay, Natasha is fucked, too. She just hides it better! Hope y'all enjoyed xx


	5. T H E → P R O P O S A L

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a call from Alpha Fury, Natasha decides that choosing a mate will have to be something she does sooner rather than later. She's not very good at marketing, well, persuading, and her wording could later come back to bite her in the ass.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this has taken so long! I'll give y'all a chapter recap:
> 
> Steve and Natasha meet at the Lunar Ceremony and flirt a bit. They get to know the basics and even though they feel a bit of a connection, they choose to ignore it. For now.

As expected, Sitwell wasn’t at the pack house when she returned. It was for the best, really. She wanted to be left alone and relish the bit of warmth she felt whenever she thought of Steve. It wasn’t anything _serious_. He was nice and attractive, of course, she’d think about him with a stupid smile on her face.

It was dark when she finally got back, and it seemed that everyone had retired for the night. Part of her was hoping that Laura or Melinda were waiting for her so that she could share how her evening had gone, but she also didn’t want to bother them with hope.

Maybe Steve Rogers just wasn’t meant for her.

It was fun, she liked to tease him even if it wasn’t sexual and she liked that he didn’t look down at her. Her wolf was interested; he had passed her tests, but the fear of making the wrong choice was itching in the back of her head.

What if that was just an act? What if the rumours about him were true? What if he actually ate children for breakfast and-

“You’re back!”

Laura made her way into Natasha’s room, dressed in a long black tee with her hair up in a chignon. “How was it?” She sat on the edge of her bed, watching as Natasha undressed and threw her clothes in the laundry basket.

“You’re not even going to let me take a shower before bombarding me?”

“Did you meet anyone?” She narrowed her eyes, zeroing in curiously on a few leaves that were still stuck to her hair. “Or did you fight someone?” She stood up, looking at the dirt smudged on her arms. “You were running.”

Natasha turned her back to her, grabbing her towel and clothes before heading to her bathroom. “You’re not even going to let me get comfortable before you bombard me?”

“The details are still fresh on your mind,” she grumbled, “this is when they’re good.”

She let out a loud laugh, leaving the bathroom door open for her to follow. “Fine,” she sighed, “sit on the floor and we can talk while I shower.”

“That’s what I’m talking about,” Laura rubbed her hands together, a fake malicious smile adorning her face as she sat on the floor. She scrounged her nose, looking around the bathroom floor. “You smell kind of funny.”

“I’m going to take a shower!” She responded defensively.

“No,” she frowned and sort of got up to crawl in her direction. “It’s like…” she sniffed loudly, “…were you _with_ someone?”

Natasha rolled her eyes, reaching for the soap. “Laura, I was surrounded by a bunch of wolves.”

“No!” Her tone rose in checked excitement, “his smell is _all_ over you! You _were_ with someone and that someone smells good!”

The growl that rumbled through her chest was _not_ intentional.

“And you like him!”

“Laura!” She hissed, pushing the shower curtain away to look down at her friend. “Let me shower in peace!”

The she-wolf grumbled, annoyed at the lack of information she was receiving but excited about whatever had happened. It’s not like it was much, yes, she met someone, but it wasn’t like she had made the decision to unite the packs! Hell, she wasn’t even sure that Steve liked her!

It wasn’t fair to give anyone false hope, especially not herself.

And yet, even know she knew that she shouldn’t feel what she was feeling, she felt it and she shared it with Laura. Well, not what she was feeling, she shared what happened at the Lunar Ceremony and tried her best to keep a calm face.

It was something she had learned to perfect over the years, keeping a calm face while receiving and giving bad news was something of a gift for her.

So, she spent most of her time in the shower recounting the meeting with Steve Rogers and how pleasant it was meeting a man that didn’t immediately make comments about: a.) her land, b.) her body, c.) _does the carpet match the drapes?_

After her shower, they sat on her bed and she tried her best to answer all of Laura’s questions without working herself up. The more she talked about Steve Rogers, the more she found that she _liked_ him.

It was crazy to think she had such a…connection to him with only knowing him for a few moments.

Werewolves didn’t have predestined soulmates, but they still had something quite close to it. During the mating ritual there were two stages; the ceremony uniting the packs and the intimate bond between the two wolves. Most times wolves had to complete the second part multiple times before they fully bonded (which wasn’t a bad time at all, it just meant they had to fuck more to complete the bond.)

“So,” Laura grinned, snapping her out of her thoughts, “what I’m hearing is, that he passed the Natasha Romanov test.”

Natasha narrowed her eyes, tucking her hair behind her ear. “I do _not_ have a test.” She did. 99% of the male population had failed miserably. _Stupid Steve Rogers for passing the damn test._ “As I said, he’s a good person. You can tell that he will be protective of his mate but not overbearingly so, y’know?” She fidgeted on the bed, hugging the pillow to her stomach, trying to shield her defensive body language. “I just…” a sigh escaped her lips, “he saw me as his equal. When Rumlow came over, he didn’t think that I wasn’t capable of handling the situation, he just…made it loud and clear that he didn’t like the way Rumlow touched me. But he didn’t _move_ ; he didn’t start banging his chest or pulled his cock out to measure.”

That made Laura burst out laughing. “His _what_?!”

She ignored her, shrugging nonchalantly. “…which by the way,” she held her hands up, trying to do justice to his… “I was a little intimidated,” she lamely explained.

“Wait!” Laura widened her eyes, scooting closer as if attempting to keep the conversation between them. “You _saw_ his dick?!”

“Well, yeah,” Natasha shrugged an arm, brushing the surprise with indifference, “we went for a run.”

A perfectly arched eyebrow greeted her with pursed lips and a mischievous glint in her eyes.

It wasn’t a big thing! She had a test to give and even though she denied it through and through, Laura knew about this test!

“What?” She groaned, rolling her eyes, “I wanted to see if I liked what I saw in him as a wolf!”

“Uh-huh,” she sang, “you just wanted to see the man naked!” She dodged the pillow Natasha threw and simply widened her grin at the glare she received. “And honestly,” she sighed, “I don’t blame you. I heard he’s quite…the looker.”

 _Was she growling again?! What the hell was wrong with her?!_ Steve wasn’t hers to claim!

“Well,” Natasha pursed her lips, “it doesn’t matter. He would have to accept my proposal and for that to happen, I would actually need to _ask_ him if he wants to unite the packs.”

“Why don’t you-”

Natasha’s phone began to buzz on her bed and she quickly grabbed it. People rarely called her, there were only two numbers that ever called; Fury’s and the annoying secretary from The Council.

This time, to her mild relief, it was Fury.

She held a finger up to Laura, who nodded and began to fiddle with the fibres of the wool blanket on her lap.

“Hello?”

Every time Alpha Fury called she felt a sense of dread settling at the pit of her stomach. He never called with good news – well, rarely did he call with good news – and since she had a relatively good day today, she figured that all good things really did come to an end.

“Hey, Natasha. How are you doing?” His voice was tight but for her sake, he was attempting to sound light-hearted. He was an amazing liar, so whatever happened…it must’ve been with The Council. _Fuck_.

“I’m fine, I was just talking to Laura. You?”

He sighed, and she could almost see him pinching the bridge of his nose in annoyance. “Look…” her heart skipped a beat, “I just got off the phone with Councilman Rockwell…and it’s not looking good, Nat.”

She closed her eyes, running her fingers through her hair. Laura noticed the change in her expression and stood up from the bed, wanting to give her some privacy.

“Call me if you need anything,” she mouthed and smiled reassuringly.

“What happened?”

“Those motherfuckers _tried_ giving me an ultimatum,” he all but snarled, “ _me_ an _ultimatum_!” Fury huffed out a laugh in disbelief. The Council must’ve really pissed him off.

“About?”

She knew the answer. She knew that it had to do with the claim of protection he had done over her pack and land. No wolf dared to cross Nick Fury, but most wolves wanted the Romanov land…and well, that caused a lot of issues when the North-American packs met at the end of the year to discuss any problems with The Council.

So, the lovely “royalty” of the wolves took it upon themselves to make their lives a living hell by demanding that she either mate with someone or give up her land.

If she truly wanted, she could’ve just taken the easy way out and be done with all that mess, but that meant that she was giving up; that meant that she was submitting to the wishes of all the assholes that had doubted her.

And yes, she had pride and it might be the cause of her downfall, but she would be damned if she just fell to her knees like everyone expected her to. The last Romanov was not about to let the only thing she had left of her family go away without a fight.

“D’you hear me?” Fury grunted.

“Yeah.”

He was quiet for a full minute, the clock mounted on the wall kept ticking and she kept count. “I heard – from reliable sources – that you attended the Lunar Ceremony today.”

She raised an eyebrow. It wasn’t uncommon for word to go around, but she sort of knew where the conversation was headed. “Oh?”

“Yes.” He cleared his throat and she heard his chair creaking in the background. He refused to change the damn chair even though it was about twenty years old and would probably break and make him bust ass. _It ain’t broke. ‘m not about to give up on the damned thing._ “Heard you were cosying up with Steve Rogers.”

She snorted, rolling her eyes even though he couldn’t see her. “Cosying up? Who said _that_?”

“Reliable sources.”

Just like Fury to give plenty of information when she asked. _It’s all on a need to know_ , he always said.

“Look,” he sighed, swallowing as if the words that would come out next would cause some rejection from her, “Steve…I know Steve. He’s a good man, a little bruised and battered, but he’s good. He would respect you and he has the numbers to make the damn Council shut up.”

“Are you sure?” She smiled to herself, “Somehow I have a hard time believing that this union will put The Council off our backs. A Romanov and the Alpha who does things a little out of the ordinary, uniting packs; I can already see Councilwoman Hawley writhing in her pure silk sheets.”

Fury chuckled at the jab. “So, you want his number?”

“I’ll take it.” She paused. “Thank you, Fury; for everything.”

“Don’t thank me, give the man a damn call!”

She laughed, nodding and jotted the phone number down. Before he ended the call, he gave her a bit of information about Steve, _accurate_ information, that simply confirmed her suspicions. The man needed the union between them as much as she did.

 It was late, and she _really_ shouldn’t call him, it would probably show how desperate she was, and Natasha Romanov was _never_ desperate – well, she didn’t show it.

For a few minutes, she glanced at the phone number scribbled on her notebook and her phone screen. If she didn’t call him then, she was never going to call him, and if she never called him, she would have to deal with more threats from The Council and truly, it was time for her to deal with her own shit and stop hiding in Fury’s protection.

She owed it to herself and to Fury for all those years he stood up for her. So, she sighed, pressed _send_ and waited quietly for the phone to go to voicemail or for him to respond.

“I swear to god-” He growled on the other line. “What the hell is it now?!”

“Hello?”

A noise rumbled in the background, while Steve cursed softly under his breath. “Hello?” His voice sounded calmer, but definitely like he regretted answering the call. “You’re not Councilwoman Hawley…”

“I’m not,” she replied, grinning amusedly. “I’m Natasha, from the Lunar Ceremony.”

He swore again, making more noise in the background as if papers were flying all over the place. “I’m so sorry, Natasha. I just,” he sighed, “I got off the phone with Councilwoman Hawley and she was…pestering me about some pack members.”

“It’s alright! I know I called at a late hour.” She paused, subconsciously putting off the reason for the call. “Fury gave me your number.”

“It’s fine, I couldn’t sleep, anyway. Is he alright?”

“He is.”

After two beats of awkward silence, she finally cleared her throat and decided to grab the bull by the horns. “I have a proposition for you.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah,” she licked her bottom lip.

“What…is it?” For a short second, he wondered if she could hear his heart beating through the phone. The woman wasn’t even near him and she was turning him into an absolute mess. Pathetic, that’s what he was.

“I’d rather discuss it in person if it’s okay with you?”

She wanted to meet again?!

He almost tripped over the papers covering the floor. He had accidentally pushed them off the desk when he realised _who_ called. He didn’t mean to snap at her, but he was sick of The Council pestering him about things that didn’t really matter. They should’ve been dealing with things that actually threatened the wellbeing of the werewolf community.

Not three damn wolves leaving their European packs to join his. If their Alphas had issues with them leaving, he would’ve been a little more apprehensive about letting them join his pack, but their Alphas were fine with their departures; so, why the hell did The Council try to make his life a living hell so much?!

“Steve?”

“Huh?” He frowned, realising how rude he was being. “Sorry. Yes, I would like to meet with you again.” He cringed at how stupid he sounded. “T-to meet and discuss the proposition.”

She laughed, she actually _laughed_ and boy, was he ready to end the call. It was pathetic how much power she had over him, _over the phone_! “When would it work for you?”

“Tomorrow?” Was that too desperate? Fuck it. He wanted to see her again. “We could meet at noon? It would give me enough time to request permission to cross into Fury’s land. Unless you want to-”

“No, that’s fine! Perfect, actually.” Was she smiling? Could he actually _hear_ that or was he just making things up in his mind?! 

“And I know the perfect place for us to meet. I’ll text you the address.”

After they ended the call, Bucky came into his office. He was asking about The Council, knowing full well how annoying they could be, but the strange look on Steve’s face was not one of annoyance; he was _smiling_.

Steve wanted to keep the reason for his strange and nervous smile a secret, even from his Beta. It would be easier to handle the disappointment of the possible bad news Natasha had in store for him if he kept the meeting to himself.

He would just lie and not give his friends and himself any hope for a future mate.

~*~

Waking up with a sense of excitement was a very unusual thing for Natasha. It felt…strange, almost foreign. She was nervous, maybe she had read him wrong and the possibility of the union coming back to bite her in the ass pestered her, but she wasn’t going to back down.

If things didn’t work out, she would fight her hardest to fix them. People who hid in fear were never remembered, only those reckless enough with the courage to overcome their problems had their names whispered through the wind.

So, yeah, she was afraid, but she also was looking forward to meeting Steve again. Now it would just be them alone, and even though the short time they spent at the Lunar Ceremony was in public, with a hundred other wolves, she felt like they managed to make that time very intimate. She would be lying if she said she wasn’t looking forward to it again.

When she walked into the kitchen, she was happy to find her pack members in a very serene atmosphere. Phil and Melinda were setting the table, sharing flirty winks and secretive smiles. Watching them always brought a sense of longing to Natasha, she wanted that type of timeless love.

Gemma cradled William in her arms, cooing down at the babe as she gently swayed side to side. Peter was walking around Laura, trying to reach into the frying pan for the sausages only for her to whack the spatula against his hand.

It was all a plot to distract Laura long enough for Matt to sneak a hand in and steal a few bacon strips, but her instincts were unparalleled, and she managed to kick him in the shin before he could grab anything.

Sitwell was nowhere to be found and his presence wasn’t something Natasha particularly missed. She knew that the moment he saw her, he would have something to say about her early departure and the unpleasant interaction she had with Rumlow.

“Peter, I swear to god, if you touch those pancakes, I’m shoving this spatula down your throat.” Laura hissed. She wasn’t even looking in his direction to know that he was peering around the counter for food.

“But they’re chocolate chip, Laura!” He groaned, still looking at the pancakes as he licked his lips.

“Breakfast is almost done! I just need to plate everything. Instead of trying to steal my food, why don’t you help me?”

The smile that grew on his face was almost bright enough to light up the dark side of the moon.

“You know what?” Laura frowned, shaking her head, “On second thought, just take a seat. I feel like if you help, there won’t be any food left for anyone else.”

“I’m a growing boy, Laura,” he patted his stomach, “I need a lot of food.”

“’m surprised Nat hasn’t gone bankrupt with how quickly you and Matt empty the fridge,” she muttered.

Natasha laughed, patting Peter’s back as she took his spot by Laura. “Why don’t you take a seat, Pete? Seeing the food up close is doing you no good.” She turned to Matt, who stood by the wall with puppy eyes. “You too.”

His shoulders sagged, but he nodded and trudged toward the kitchen table. Matt followed behind acting more like Peter’s 16-year-old self than a 27-year-old. Sometimes she wondered who was truly the teenager between the two.

“How was the conversation with Fury last night? Everything okay?” Laura whispered, pulling the bread rolls from the oven.

“Yeah,” Natasha reached for the plate with bacon and the one with sausages. Laura always cooked like she was feeding an entire army, which thanks to Peter and Matt, well, it just seemed very appropriate. “I have some news about that, actually.”

“Oh?” Laura recognised the slight excitement in her tone of voice but didn’t want to press any further.

“I’ll explain after we eat.”

Natasha sat at the head of the table, watching with an amused smile as everyone ate to their heart’s content. Laura was an amazing cook and she was grateful that she taught her a few things, so she could manoeuvre herself around the kitchen with ease.

Peter and Matt sat across from each other, glaring and scowling as they shared a threatening look over who would have the last bread roll. They seemed to be really concentrated, watching the other’s hand for any movements.

Phil reached over, engaged in a very passionate conversation with Gemma and Melinda about a TV show they had all been watching, and took the last roll. He wasn’t even looking and missed the flabbergasted expressions on Peter and Matt.

Natasha burst out laughing, amused at their open-mouthed miens, but didn’t say anything. Once they were done eating, they talk amongst themselves quietly and she waited until she thought it was the best time to make her announcement.

Sitwell was still nowhere to be found and quite frankly, she didn’t care much for his attendance. She knew the moment she mentioned meeting with an Alpha that wasn’t Brock Rumlow, he would throw a hissy fit and she didn’t want anything to ruin her good mood.

“I have something I want to share with you guys.”

The table immediately quieted down and they all turned to her with curious looks. She smiled, looking into each of their eyes with a meaningful look.

“Yesterday, at the Lunar Ceremony, I met an Alpha…” She was thankful that they only smiled at the revelation. It was nice not being bombarded by questions or looked at with disappointment. “I will be meeting with him today to discuss a possible unity with our packs.”

“That’s a wonderful thing to share, _daragaya_.” Melinda reached over to give her hand a comforting squeeze.

“I don’t want to give you guys too many details in case things don’t work out, but I also didn’t want to drop the news on you.”

“Can we at least know his name?” Peter asked.

Natasha hesitated for a second, not sure if saying his name was appropriate. She _really_ didn’t want to get anyone’s hopes up.

“Don’t tell me it was that Rogers imbecile.”

Sitwell beat her to it.

He yawned, dragging the chair at the other end of the table and unceremoniously sat down.  He reached over, grabbing a sausage and chewed on it for all of them to hear. Matt glared at him, the obvious dislike for the Beta evident in his face.

She knew no one in the pack really liked Sitwell, hell _she_ didn’t like him. But she wanted to keep good on her word to Fury and if he thought that Sitwell was a good choice…

“That would be a waste of a union. The man couldn’t even protect you if he tried. He failed his old mate-”

The growl that rumbled through her chest frightened even _her_. Why was she so keen on defending Steve’s name!? She bared her teeth at Sitwell but held onto the table as to not claw his face apart. “You _will_ respect someone of a higher rank.”

He shrugged, impassively. “I’m just saying. The whole purpose of you uniting with a pack is for protection and if the man couldn’t even save-”

“That is _enough_!” The venom dripping from her voice should have troubled her. She didn’t want to let on how protective of Steve she had become for only knowing him a few hours. If he didn’t accept her proposal, she would be pissed.

“I told you that-”

“If you mention Brock Rumlow’s name to me, one more fucking time, I swear to god, Sitwell, I will rip your tongue from your mouth.”

He glared at her but stuffed a whole pancake in his mouth. Good, if he didn’t, she would.

She breathed in slowly, trying to calm herself before speaking. “I have never…I have never demanded anyone to stay part of this pack. In fact, I thank you for trusting me so much, but if my decisions ever trouble you, you can respectfully question them, or you can leave.”

No one said a word, but they all stared at her with a look of fierce loyalty in their eyes; save for Sitwell. She would get rid of him the moment she mated with someone, be it Steve or not.

“I know that the rumours of Alpha Steve Rogers are not…they are not the kindest, but if you have trusted me for all this time and I haven’t let you down, please trust me on this, too. I know that ultimately the decision is mine, but I don’t want…I don’t want anyone to feel doubtful about this. Hell, I’m not even saying that Steve and I will unite, that’s something that I have to discuss with him, but if there are any concerns, now it’s the time to let them be known.”

“The rumours about you were just _that_ ,” Peter spoke up first, standing up to look at her with a look of maturity that warmed her heart, “when Aunt May died and I left Jameson’s pack, I was scared. I didn’t…” he frowned and cleared his throat, “they all said you didn’t know what you were doing, that you were some cold-hearted, unstable, greedy bitch that didn’t want to let go of your parent’s name. They said you didn’t deserve the Luna title and dragged your name through the mud. Still, when I joined you, you took care of me, _trusted_ me and I’ve always admired how loyal you are to people. So, if you think that uniting packs with Alpha Rogers’ is a good idea, I will stand by my Luna proud and tall because I trust her the most.”

“Pete…” Damn him for making her emotional.

“Kid’s right.” Matt nodded, “There’s no one else we’d rather follow.”

“It’s the truth,” he shrugged, “you’ve always looked out for our best interests, this time it’s no different.”

“He’s right,” Gemma spoke quietly, “you’ve never given us reason to question you. Rumours are a nasty thing and if we listened to them all the time, we would never get anything done.”

“You know I’ll stand by you even when you make stupid decisions,” Laura winked, squeezing her arm tenderly.

Natasha laughed, rolling her eyes, but gulped nervously when she turned to Melinda and Phil. They had been there from the beginning and she wasn’t sure she could stand their departure if they decided she was doing something stupid.

“ _Daragaya_ ,” Melinda smiled warmly, “you’re stuck with us whether you like it or not. We told you to go to the Lunar Ceremony and give it a chance, that you might meet someone. We’re proud of you for doing that.”

“And, exceeding our expectations,” Phil winked. “If you think Alpha Rogers’ is a good choice, then we will happily back your decision.”

Sitwell scoffed, standing up. “Whatever. Romanticise your own deaths.”

Peter and Matt scowled, growling lowly at the retreating Beta.

If Steve didn’t accept her proposal, Sitwell would either go willingly or in a casket.

~*~

When Natasha saw Steve walking up the street, she felt a strange thrill rush up her spine. He did _not_ look this good yesterday. Right?! He was wearing a blue V-neck sweater, which quite frankly, seemed to be handcrafted to fit _just_ him and a pair of dark jeans.

He walked up to her with a small smile and she would be lying if she said she didn’t savour every bit of it. It was small, but it was for _her_. “Hi.” He cleared his throat. “Sorry I’m late, I couldn’t find a parking spot.”

“It’s alright,” she waved his apology away, smiling, “I just got here.”

He sat down, across from her and pulled the chair closer to the table. The weather was nice, but he wasn’t sure he should point it out. That would just make their conversation awkward. And he also didn’t want to point out how beautiful she looked.

Or how the sun made bits of her hair turn an almost copper colour with hints of honey red and gold. Or how her eyes were sparkling, and her lips seemed to be moulded after hearts and they were plump and– 

“Did you want to order anything?”

“No,” he shook his head, “I’m not hungry.” _If I eat anything, I’ll throw up._

Natasha nodded to herself, taking a sip from her hot cocoa and then wrapped her arms around the warm cup. “How was the drive here? Fury gave you any trouble?”

“No. He seemed to be expecting me, actually.”

A half smile curved at her lips. “Sounds like Fury; all-knowing and wise.”

Steve snorted a laugh, but it was half-hearted, a hint of admiration for the Alpha evident in his eyes.

“Well,” she sighed, “there’s no sense in avoiding the purpose for this meeting. So,” she cleared her throat, hoping to god that he wasn’t paying close attention to all her nervous movements, “let’s get started, shall we?”

“Yes.”

“My parents…when they were killed, there were about five hundred wolves in our pack. They were almost an empire, one of the oldest werewolf families in the country. People loved them, well at least I thought they did…” Natasha trailed off, realising that she didn’t want to make a speech for him. She didn’t want to market herself like some item on a shelf that needed to be bought. “The point is, the land they left behind has hundreds of acres that other wolves have been dying to get ever since I became the Luna. I gave some to Fury, his pack had the number of wolves and they needed the space. But now…I can’t give that away. It feels like giving a part of my family away; it’s all I have left, and The Council keeps _pestering_ me, demanding that I give the land away.”

She looked down at her cup, not wanting him to see the anger that she felt whenever she thought about The Council. “I know I don’t have the number of wolves and the logical response would be to give in to what they want but-”

“Natasha,” he interjected, softly and hesitated on placing his hand over hers. He decided, rather slowly, to just brush his fingers against hers, giving her just a gentle touch. “You don’t need to explain yourself to me or to anyone. The land has been in your family for generations; it’s your inheritance, your legacy.”

He was right. She was going to stop explaining herself because hell, no one else had to.

“Right,” she nodded. “I’d tell you more, but it’s starting to sound as if I’m trying to guilt trip you into mating me. That’s not what I want. I’m being hounded by The Council for this and I figured we could, maybe, sort of, help each other out…”

He raised an eyebrow.

“I know it’s none of my business,” she began, quiet but her tone was strong and warm, her gaze melting through him, “but I know you don’t have a Luna and an Alpha with so many wolves and no Luna…”

She hated what she was doing. This was not how she planned on meeting her mate or uniting packs with someone. Steve didn’t deserve this, she didn’t even know him, and she knew that he deserved better than some sob story. Granted, the sob story was _true_ , but…she wished they could be doing this under different circumstances.

Steve nodded curtly at her comment, his jaw tightening in emotions that she couldn’t quite decipher. He was going to say no. Why would he say yes after she pulled out a dirty card?!

“Fury suggested I talk to you. He said that maybe we could unite the packs and bond. It could benefit us both and it’s not like we wouldn’t get along! I truly did enjoy your company yesterday.”

“A bond for convenience,” he mutters in response, looking down at her hands, where her fingers brush against his, and he’s looking but not really _looking._ It’s as if his gaze is going through their hands and he’s lost elsewhere.

She was such a bitch.

How could she have – the man sounded so _hurt_. Like she was coercing him into doing something and she hated that that’s how her words came out. She wanted to fix things, explain herself and she desperately wished that they could meet under different circumstances.

“It doesn’t have to be _just_ for convenience,” she blurted out. His eyes snapped up to hers, the turquoise in them becoming more prominent with the colour of his sweater. “I think,” she swallowed, trying to vocalise her thoughts correctly, “that a bond isn’t just for fucking and having pups. It’s also about practicality. Having our heads in the clouds is nice at times, but we also need to remember to keep our feet on the ground and we need to prepare for anything that reality throws our way. So, we can romanticise the hell out of mating, but we also have to think about the future we could have _because_ of this mating.”

Steve nodded, swallowing the hard truth. Everything she was saying was right. Did it hurt knowing that she didn’t really see their bond as anything more than just a…means to an end? Hell yes. It hurt more than he would have liked it to.

“So,” she swallowed, her voice becoming quieter because she knew that he was going to say no, “whaddaya say? Business partners?”

If she was selling herself as a product on a shelf, no one would buy her.

He looked up at her eyes, then at her outstretched hand and shook it firmly. “Business partners.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't hate me! Miscommunication leads to angst and I need to incorporate angst, lmao.  
> Feel free to point out things that don't make sense or ask any questions! I know I probably screwed something up in this chapter.


	6. A N T I C I P A T I O N  &  A T T R A C T I O N

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natasha introduces Steve to the Romanov pack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried not to take as long as last time to update, but I really took a month. I can't believe myself.
> 
> Recap: Steve and Natasha agree to a "business-like" arrangement.

He was an idiot. There was no other reason to explain _why_ he had just agreed to mate with someone that only saw him as a business partner.

In part, she was right. He liked that; liked that she was logical about the reason to be particular about who you mated with. However, it didn’t stop the slight churning sensation he felt when he realised that in the long run, he was going to pine for her and she would never return the feeling.

It’s not like he _loved_ her, hell, he barely knew her! But he liked her and he _wanted_ to know her, wake up next to her and stand beside her proud and tall because Natasha Romanov was _his_. He wanted her to bear his mark proudly, not just look at him as a solution to a problem they both were dealing with.

And, as he looked at her relieved expression, he felt like an utter ass. She was expecting him to say no. The way her eyes widened and blinked slowly made him feel something _foreign_ , something he hadn’t felt in a long time and he wasn’t sure he was ready to feel it again.

There _he_ was worried about what an idiot he was for accepting this proposition when Natasha was being rational and _helping_ him. She hadn’t said that they would never share the intimacy between two wolves that mated for reasons that _weren’t_ for convenience. In fact, she mentioned _fucking_ and _pups_ as if those cards weren’t totally off the table.

But they _would_ have to be off the table for his sake.

If he was pining after her this badly with only _knowing_ her, he couldn’t imagine how badly he would pine after her if they became intimate.

“Steve?” She squeezed his hand gently, the surprise at his acceptance gone and in its place was a warm smile.

“Yeah?” He pulled his hand from underneath hers, gulping, and chose to ignore the flash of concern in her eyes when he pulled back.

“Since…well, since we’re going to do this, did you want to meet my pack? Or at least come by and see the land or anything?” There it was again, her trying to sell him the idea as if he hadn’t just agreed to mate with her. In her defence, she wasn’t expecting him to, it caught her by surprise, but she was happy, and it took all of her being not to throw herself across the table and into his arms to thank him for saving her ass.

Steve nodded, curtly and gruff. “We can.”

She wasn’t sure why he suddenly became distant. It seemed as if she had hurt him, but she couldn’t understand _why_ he was hurt! Was it the mention of his solitude as an Alpha? She was just stating the obvious…

_Sometimes the obvious hurts, Natasha. You should know that._

“Okay, great!” If she had to fake optimism for both of them to make this work, she would do it. “You can follow me in your car and then we can go from foot?”

“That works.”

His sudden demeanour wasn’t entirely cold, but it definitely wasn’t the demeanour of two wolves that had just agreed to mate. It was like an arranged marriage of sorts between strangers, which in a way, it was.

She didn’t know much about him, except for the things she heard people talk about, and he didn’t know much about her except the sob story she had begun to recount. This was the beginnings of a _lovely_ mating.

As she drove back to the packhouse, she kept looking at Steve through the rearview mirror. He was driving a black Jeep Cherokee and he really shouldn’t have looked so mesmeric driving the damn car. He was just driving with one hand and his jaw was set, his eyes a bit steely as he followed her, so it’s not like he was doing something extraordinary.

But her heart was still thudding in her chest steadily and erratic, _at the same time_. She wondered if he could hear the way her nerves were working in overdrive or how she kept swallowing in a lame attempt to feel in control.

It was like going on a date for the very first time with someone you didn’t know. Except you were now going to spend the rest of your life with them and bring them to meet your family. She felt like she was in a reality TV series, except there were no crewmen following her.

When Steve pulled up next to her car, he didn’t say a word. He just shoved his hands in his pockets and quietly walked up to her side. She wanted to ask him a million questions, wanted to get to know him and smooth out the awkward tension that was brewing between them, but she also didn’t want to say anything that might make him back out.

“Steve?” She cleared her throat, sliding her sweaty palms down the sides of her jeans. “Are you alright?”

He lifted his head to look at her; his gaze was focused but his expression was that of a man deep in thought. She really didn’t want the awkward tension between them to be noticeable to the pack members. Granted, it’s not like they would be best friends, but god, they were going to be mated and the man looked like he was walking barefoot across pointed glass.

“What?” He cleared his throat and momentarily frowned as if trying to truly focus on what she was saying. “Yeah, I’m fine.” He was brushing her concern away, not just her concern, but _her_. It would be good for him to know that his future mate was stubborn as all hell.

Natasha tilted her head, her red curls brushing over her shoulder with the movement. She took a hesitant step to him, her eyes gazing at him with a bit of a cautious look – she didn’t want to overstep her boundaries and spook him, but she also didn’t want him to feel like she didn’t _care_.

“You don’t have to do this, you know? You can forget I ever asked this of you if you’re not comfortable with it.”

The look he gave her was almost…territorial. Like, he couldn’t believe she was hinting at a way for him to leave. Like he _wanted_ her and was offended that she didn’t seem to think so. “I know.” His voice was raw, low. “I want to.”

She was quiet, eyeing him curiously for a short second. “I know I said that our bond would be for convenience, but that doesn’t mean that I want you to be uncomfortable. I would like for us to speak freely about things that bother us.”

“I would like that, too.”

Steve Rogers, a man of _so many_ words.

Before she could keep talking to herself – because really, that’s what it felt like – a familiar growl resonated from behind the trees. The chestnut-coloured wolf didn’t attack, but he bared his teeth at Steve with a mean scowl.

“Peter!” Natasha frowned, surprised that the boy would act that way toward an Alpha.

They hadn’t been introduced, but if Natasha could feel the hairs on her neck standing whenever Steve was around, she definitely knew that Peter felt them. The man was powerful and not to be challenged – which is exactly what Peter’s growl could have been mistaken for.

Immediately Peter bowed, whimpering softly under her glare. “I’m sorry,” she turned to Steve, grimacing, “we don’t get a lot of trespassers.”

“It’s okay,” He smiled, and she was pleasantly surprised at how genuine it seemed. He looked at Peter with sudden interest, almost…satisfied by Peter’s immediate response to a possible threat. “It’s good, that he’s aware of strangers.”

She sighed, shaking her head as she walked by the young wolf. She bent down, brushing her fingers through the thick mane and quietly spoke. “He’s with me, Pete.” Her voice was soothing, very motherly and it struck a chord in Steve.

It was probably the Alpha in him, yearning for a mate that could balance out all the qualities he lacked. He was good with children, but this…it was different. The way she was strong and powerful yet serene and approachable. It was amazing, watching that small interaction and overanalysing it to the point of madness.

The rest of the walk to the packhouse was quiet. Natasha smiled at him, reassuringly and trusting, almost like she was giving him the strength to face the possible hostility from her pack. It’s not like they would blatantly disrespect an Alpha, but he really didn’t want any problems to happen with his presence. He knew what the rumours of him were and if her pack members believed them…

“Here we are,” Natasha beamed up at the house proudly. “Pete, go get changed and tell the others to come out.”

The young wolf dashed forward, a blur of brown as he pawed at the ground beneath him. He was fast, the promise of a good guard clear in his movements.

“Your home is beautiful,” Steve commented softly, very sincere.

The Romanov pack house was old and had suffered greatly during the fire the rebels spread out when they killed her family. Alpha Fury helped to rebuild it, he provided the workers and the material, but it wasn’t the same. She didn’t think it would ever really be the same.

“Thank you,” she replied, quietly, almost lost in thought when she spoke again, “this is nothing to how it was before the fire. It’s a house now, but it used to be a _home_. People were always walking in and out, kids laughed and played right by the steps. We used to play this-” She cut herself off, realising the saddened emotions in her tone of voice. “Sorry,” she forced a smile, “I got carried away.”

“Don’t be sorry. Remember what you said; we want to have the freedom to speak as mates. Not just what we like or dislike, but anything you want to talk about. I’ll be here to listen and give advice when you want.”

Natasha smiled, happy with their progress. Just a few seconds ago he was speaking in short, curt sentences and now he was staring at her with so many emotions, she wondered how he didn’t become overwhelmed by them.

“You’re back!” Laura gushed, “And she brought company!”

Behind Laura came the rest of the pack. Melinda walked with Phil, arms entwined with a happy grin on their face. Gemma held William in her arms, shyly glancing at Steve and then nuzzled her nose in William’s curls to try and hide the interest.

Matt had his arm slung over Peter’s shoulders, probably making fun of him for snarling at an Alpha when he entered the Romanov territory. Usually, the disrespect would be met with a punishment, but Steve didn’t seem to care much about the challenge. In fact, he had seemed proud.

Laura grinned at them, a suggestive glint in her eyes as she wriggled her eyebrows and Natasha held the urge to whack her with her shoe.

Sitwell hadn’t bothered to greet them. Part of her didn’t care, she didn’t care what Sitwell thought about her decisions, but the other part was annoyed that he didn’t bother to show Steve any respect. Not only was he a guest, but he was also an _Alpha_ , someone of a higher rank that deserved respect.

“Steve,” she pointed to them when she said their names, “this is Melinda, Phil, Gemma and her baby William, Matt, you sort of know Peter,” Matt snorted when Peter blushed, “and this is Laura, the most obnoxious person you could ever meet.”

“She loves me the most,” Laura whispered, winking playfully at them.

“Guys, this is Alpha Steve Rogers.”

Steve took a step forward, shaking hands with them all as he personally introduced himself. “Nice to meet you all.”

“Oh, the pleasure is _all_ ours,” Laura drawled, eyeing Natasha with a knowing smirk. She really was the annoying older sister.

Melinda spoke up, knowing that Natasha would most likely bite Laura’s head off for embarrassing her. “Would you like to come in?”

Steve nodded. “That would be nice.” He waited for everyone to walk in the house, including Natasha and then followed them in.

For the first few hours, everyone bombarded Steve with questions. Some were a bit too personal – of course, they came from Laura – but thankfully they didn’t cross the line too much. Others were more technical, like how many wolves were in his pack – 310 – or what were his views on certain matters that The Council failed to address in the wolf community.

It was nice, seeing how fascinated they all seemed with Steve. They welcomed him with opened arms and he seemed to be a little more relaxed than when she brought up their arrangement. Peter and Matt even got him to smile at their silly shenanigans and as much as she hated the whole “sharing embarrassing childhood stories” she didn’t put much of a fight when Phil and Melinda talked about “their fierce little warrior.”

The laugh that rumbled through his chest and the smile on his face was totally worth the mortification she felt. It was almost like they had forgotten about the arrangement and they were actually mates. Like they were the most normal couple instead of business partners.

“So,” Sitwell cleared his throat, leaning against the archway between the kitchen and the living room.

Natasha straightened her posture, suddenly aware of the possible fight that could come. Sitwell’s entire demeanour screamed disrespectful, like he wanted to stir trouble and quite frankly, Natasha wasn’t sure she could contain the urge to rip his tongue out if he said something stupid.

“You’re Alpha Rogers.”

Steve stood up from the couch but hesitated for a short second. He could tell that he was her Beta, but they didn’t really act like they… _liked_ each other. Everyone in the room tensed and became quiet, and him not showing up to greet them when she was making introductions spoke enough of his character and respect toward the ranks.

“I am,” he glanced at Natasha, watching as she took her spot by his side, her eyes alert and cautious as she looked at Sitwell. “You must be Jasper.”

He nodded. “Everyone calls me Sitwell.”

Steve didn’t speak, neither did Natasha. Sitwell took this as an opportunity to sit across from them.

“I have a question.” He didn’t wait for anyone to tell him to ask. “I mean this in no disrespect,” Natasha stifled beside Steve, “but I _am_ the Beta of this pack and the Luna’s wellbeing is my priority.”

“Yes?”

“If you could not protect your mate, what ensures us, that you’ll keep us safe? After all, your mate-”

It happened in a second, it was just a blur, and no one could have stopped her if they really wanted to. The slap against his cheek just echoed and burned his face more than her hand, but by god, that was the most civil thing she could do without killing the man.

“How dare you-”

“Natasha,” Steve stood up, cautiously approaching her, “hey,” his voice was soft, as if he was approaching an injured beast, “Nat? It’s okay.” _Nat? Where the hell did that come from?_ They weren’t close enough for him to be giving her nicknames, but she didn’t seem to be angry, so maybe he didn’t overstep any boundaries…

The adrenaline and anger pumping through her veins made her body shiver, just tremble as she tried her best to compose herself. She had to because if she didn’t, Sitwell would be returned to his wannabe Alpha in fucking pieces.

“Hey,” Steve tried again, his hand brushing against her shoulder gently, “it’s okay.” His arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her into a hug and he tried his best to calm her down. This was what a mate did, right? He wasn’t crossing his self-imposed limits.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured, voice low with restraint. “I should – he shouldn’t have – I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he tightened his hold on her, “he’s right.”

Natasha pulled back, frowning. “No, Steve, that’s not-”

He ignored her, turning to look at Sitwell. “The man I was all those years ago, is not the man I am today. If someone attempts to hurt Natasha, they will not only deal with me, but they will deal with her.”

Natasha looked up at him, a twinge of awe shining in her eyes at his response. He smiled, happy that he had made her happy, and slowly released her from his hold. She wasn’t shaking anymore.

Laura cleared her throat, trying to ease the tension in the room. Sitwell still didn’t leave. “So, Steve, do you wanna stay for dinner?”

“Would you like me to?” He addressed Natasha.

She nodded. “Yeah, it’d be nice.”

“You can freshen up in the guest house,” Melinda spoke up. “I’m sure the drive here was exhausting, and our interrogation didn’t help.”

Steve laughed, softly. “It would be nice to shower.”

“Do you have any clothes?” Phil stood up. “We can see if anything fits if you don’t.”

“I have a bag in my trunk, comes in handy when you don’t have time to undress before shifting.”

“Resourceful,” Laura wriggled her eyebrows, taking Natasha’s arm and entwining it with hers. “Natasha can help me make dinner while you get ready.”

“Peter, can you show Alpha Steve to the guest house?”

Peter nodded, quickly standing up and escorted Steve out of the house. He shot her a small smile before leaving and if it didn’t make her heart beat just a teeny bit faster.

Once they were gone, Natasha turned to Sitwell, the anger returning but much more controlled. “What the _fuck_ were you thinking?! How dare you disrespect an Alpha?! You’re lucky he didn’t ask to fucking rip your head out, you goddamn imbecile!”

“My job as your Beta is to look out for your best interest, even if you don’t see it. I don’t think that man-”

“Alpha,” she snarled.

Sitwell rolled his eyes, but corrected himself – for his sake, really. “I don’t think that Alpha Rogers is fit to be your mate.”

“Well, good thing you won’t be the one making that decision, right? Fuck off, Sitwell.”

“Gladly,” He spat, stalking out of the living room before she could sink her claws into his face.

Once again, the room became silent, while everyone waited for Natasha to calm down.

“I’m sorry, guys. He’s just-”

“It’s Sitwell,” Laura scoffed, “I’m surprised you’ve lasted this long.”

“Fury recommended him,” Natasha sighed, running her fingers through her hair, “I don’t…he’s done so much for me, I don’t want to let him down.”

Melinda reached out, pulling her into a motherly hug. “Oh, _daragaya_ , it’s alright. There’s no way you can let him down. I would speak to Alpha Fury, though. Sitwell’s behaviour might not work well with your union to Steve.”

“She’s right,” Phil added, “he could bring more harm than good.”

“I try to fix one problem and another one shows up.”

“Sitwell has _always_ been a problem,” Matt muttered.

“Matt!” She hated the man, but he was still a Beta, she didn’t want to add more problems to her plate – like having to punish one of her best guy friends if Sitwell pulled rank.

“Alright!” Laura clapped her hands, “I will be taking Natasha now. The earlier we get started on dinner, the earlier you can get ready to wow that hunk.”

“Laura,” she grumbled lowly, a half-hearted warning.

As she pulled her to the kitchen, she began to babble – it was her mechanism to distract her from Sitwell’s stupidity. They were best friends for a reason. “What do you think he likes? We have to cook something that will make him stay forever.”

“Laura!” She laughed, chastising her silliness.

“I’m just saying,” she shrugged, “you’ve been eye-fucking the man all afternoon.”

“Have not,” she grumbled, “now shut up and let’s start cooking.”

“Aye, aye, Cap'n.”

* * *

 

Natasha liked dressing up. It was okay, it wasn’t her favourite thing to do; she didn’t go out of her way to wear gowns and curl her hair – or whatever else people had to do to look the part.

Dresses were nice, they were easy to match, and she didn’t have to worry about the shirt matching the shirt or the belt fitting the outfit correctly. Things weren’t hard to coordinate.

So, she _liked_ them.

But wearing one for dinner with Steve? It was… _different._

She chose something simple, pretty and adequate for the occasion but part of her felt like the dress might be _too_ much. Maybe it was the fear that Steve would still back out from their agreement and she’d have to think about how hard she tried to impress him.

She didn’t do that often; try to impress people – trying to impress people always seemed to open the door for disappointment and quite frankly, she was tired of being disappointed.

Her red hair was pulled back in a high ponytail, chic and simple. It was a last-minute attempt to keep her hair from getting in her face and away from her elegantly-covered cleavage.

The short, cocktail-shaped dress had a squared neckline with thick shoulder straps and a clinched waistline. It was a light grey, almost blue colour, which she figured was neutral enough, casual.

Overall, she felt comfortable, the hushed voice in the back of her head was just worried that Steve would think she was trying her hardest to entice him – and really, it was silly to think that he would. She was wearing a _nice_ dress – not a bikini.

She forced herself to stop worrying and swiped a bit of gloss on her lips. Okay, so maybe she was trying to clean up nicely for Steve. That’s what potential mates did, right?

A partnership wasn’t just about what was inside, as much as people said otherwise, what was on the outside counted as well. Maybe not so much, not entirely, but it _mattered_. She had to be a _little_ attracted to him, which she was, she _definitely_ was.

So, the dress was to hopefully gouge a reaction from him. She wanted him to be a _little_ attracted to her as well.

Laura wolf-whistled when she entered the room, grinning widely as she took in her appearance. “We should have Steve’s Beta on speed-dial; that poor Alpha is gonna have a heart attack.”

Natasha rolled her eyes, laughing and finished strapping her sandals on. Heels would’ve been too much. Besides, she had to get him from the guest house and as graceful as she was, she really didn’t want to walk through the dirt in five-inch heels.

“s’not too much?”

“Nah,” she smiled sincerely, “you look beautiful.”

“Thank you.” After a beat of silence. “Should I get Steve now?”

Laura nodded. “Yeah, the table’s all set.”

She grimaced, momentarily, voicing her concerns quietly. “I hope he doesn’t get offended that we didn’t have a roundtable. I don’t want to make him feel like I don’t see him as my equal.”

“I don’t think he will, if anything, he can just sit across from you. Sitwell isn’t having dinner with us.”

“Good,” she sighed, brushing her fingers over the skirt of the dress. “I don’t need another repeat of earlier.”

Laura pressed her lips in a thin line, obviously wanting to say more, but she didn’t want to disrespect anyone. “Even though that was…unnecessary, I like how Alpha Steve handled it. The moment he was hugging you, you immediately relaxed.” She wriggled her eyebrows, just teasing. “Jokes aside, I think you will complement each other very well.”

Natasha smiled, hugging her tightly. “Thanks, Laura.”

“Thank me when he asks to stay for an eternity for teaching you how to cook!” She waved her away, “Go get him so we can eat.”

She hurried but it wasn’t because she was eager to see Steve, it was because she was _hungry,_ and the quicker Steve was with her, the quicker she would eat, okay?

As she walked down the cobbled pathway that led to the guesthouse, she was thankful for her choice of footwear. The dress would’ve looked magnificent with heels on, she was sure of that, but the _night_ wouldn’t have been magnificent if her heel caught in between a cobblestone and she ended up with a broken ankle.

It would heal, but her ego would remain shattered.

So, sandals were definitely the best option.

When Steve opened the door, she wasn’t sure what she thought she was expecting, but it certainly wasn’t what she _received_.

He opened the door in jeans, they hung dangerously low on his hips, still unbuttoned to reveal the white waistband of his boxers. He had a towel slung over his shoulders, still drying his damp hair.

For a short second, his eyes widened, as if he hadn’t been expecting her to come get him. But the surprise was gone from his face and was replaced by that hard expression he became attached to when she mentioned their arrangement.

If he hadn’t said he wanted to keep their mating, she would’ve thought someone was forcing him to be with her. It’s not that he was entirely a cold person, but he wasn’t very warm either. All her attempts to learn a little from him were shut down by his short responses.

Again, Steve Rogers seemed to be a man of short words.

“Dinner’s ready.” She managed to blurt out, almost a squeak.

In her defence, seeing Steve Rogers shirtless was an experience. She had already seen him _naked_ , but somehow this was different, _better_. His body was magnificent, sculpted with hard muscle, the strength in them obvious and he was very well endowed, but he hadn’t been _wet_.

The first time she saw him shirtless – naked – he had been dry. This time, droplets of water were sliding down his collarbone, over his hardened chest and ended their lucky journey down the chiselled planes of his abdomen.

It was…fascinating.

It was beautiful; _he_ was beautiful.

No…it was…it was straight up _porn_.

Steve wasn’t far behind in his thoughts. Granted, he didn’t consider her _pornographic_ ; that would just be disrespectful, and he refused to think of her that way. He would _not_ picture Natasha naked. He would _not_ focus on how the dress seemed to hug her curves like a second skin, provocative but not…lewd. Or how her lips were plump and just a hint darker than her natural colour, enough for his body to react to it rather…uncomfortably.

_Ah, shit._

It really could have been him seeing everything through lust-filled eyes. He was a man, a man that hadn’t been sexually active for a _very_ long time and she was a sight to behold. All curves and sweet smiles, soft and strong at the same time, feminine and _god_ she was mouth-watering.

Her mouth was moving, he could _see_ her, but he couldn’t _hear_ her.

He was distracted terribly by her scent. It truly was mouth-watering, it was like having the forbidden fruit dangled before your eyes. There was no way that he could have a taste without wanting to devour the rest.

“…Steve?”

She was looking up at him with a confused expression on her face. He didn’t know how long it had been since she last spoke, but by the look on her face, it had been a while. And he just stood there like a _fucking idiot_.

“Yeah?”

“Dinner?” She furrowed her eyebrows, her lips pouting just a smidge and by _god_ did he want to reach down and growl how badly she was affecting him.

There she stood with a fucking serene posture and he was ready to rip her clothes off and just… _just what, Steve? Get your shit together._

“Yeah,” he finally cleared his throat, regaining _some_ control over his brain. “Just need to get a shirt.”

She nodded. “I’ll just wait here.”

His nod was curt and short, straight to the point. His jaw clenched tightly, annoyed at how easily she seemed to affect him. All she did was show up at the door and he was a scattered brain mess.

It was definitely the way she smelled. God, he needed help. His mouth was _literally_ salivating at the mere thought of kissing her. Just _one_ kiss, a brush of skin against skin – hell, he’d be happy just to press his nose to the curve of her neck and inhale like an addict.

Pathetic; that’s what he was.

He rushed to the room to grab another V-neck sweater – at least this one was black – and brushed his fingers through his damp hair in a lame attempt to tame it. It had been sticking in all directions, refusing to cooperate just a _little_.

After hanging the towel over the rack in the bathroom, he rushed down the hall to meet Natasha again.

He imagined the glint in her eyes, the way her cheeks reddened _just a little_ bit and definitely imagined the way her eyes raked over him appreciatively. He really needed to get laid if he was going to survive a second longer next to her and not just…burst in his pants like a fucking high schooler. _Pathetic_.

Now he really regretted turning down Lorraine’s incessant sexual offers. Maybe if he had just been with another woman, he wouldn’t be affected by Natasha the way he was.

Yet, the thought of sharing any form of intimacy with another woman bothered him beyond comprehension. It’s not like they were fucking mated, for Pete’s sake! He had only known her for a few days and all she saw him as was a freaking means to an end, but he really couldn’t help himself.

There was a primal side of him – not just the wolf, but the human part of him – that wanted to have Natasha just for himself. And quite frankly, that scared the hell out of him. Why couldn’t she have been a little less ethereal? Treating their arrangement like a business pact would’ve been easier if she wasn’t…well, _her_.

“I hope you’re hungry,” Natasha began, her soft smoky voice breaking through his suffocating thoughts like thunder striking in the midst of a storm. “Laura went all out.”

He offered a smile, at least that’s what he thought it was. His lips moved. “I am.”

The rest of the walk back to the packhouse was silent, which Natasha greatly appreciated. It was nice, just walking underneath the darkening sky and taking in her surroundings.

Bullshit.

She couldn’t stop thinking about the way Steve Rogers wore those damn V-neck sweaters.

He was wearing another one, a black one, and _Lord_ , did it look fantastic on him. The neckline was a tad lower than the first one she saw him in. It was low enough for her to catch a peek of his tattooed collarbone; it seemed to be a phrase, words that she didn’t recognise, but was extremely intrigued by.

His hands were shoved into his jean pockets and as she snuck a few glances up at him, she realised that his beard was a _little_ shorter than it had been. He had trimmed it. She could see the way his jaw set, tightened and clenched as whatever was brewing in his mind continued its turmoil. The man was truly a sight.

There was a small scar that curved from the top of his eyebrow to the bow of his cheek. She had taken notice of it at the Lunar Ceremony and the desire to ask him, to learn why he had it, just burned through her. She ached to know about him, even if it was a little bit.

It was normal, right? Wanting to learn about her future mate shouldn’t feel so… _forbidden_.

Once they reached the packhouse, the silent tension between them slowly dissipated. It was probably because they were surrounded by her friends again – her _family_. They picked up on her signs, especially Laura, just trying to smoothen out the tension between them.

She was glad they understood, she was happy they didn’t ask question or voice their concerns because she knew that if they did, Steve might back out from the arrangement. Better yet, _she_ would back out – and that’s not what she needed to focus her energy on.

“I hope you’re hungry,” Laura began, “because Nat and I cooked to feed an army.”

They really had. The table was full of flavourful foods; buttery grilled corn, mashed potatoes, vegetables of every kind – from greens to reds, chicken, pork and ham, homemade bread rolls, salad, soup – the whole nine yards.

It always amazed her how quick Laura was in the kitchen and how _talented_ she was. The house smelled better than a five-star restaurant could ever, and she was so happy that she had learned her culinary skills from her. She just hoped Steve agreed because if not, they were screwed.

As they sat in the dining room, no one asked for Sitwell or questioned Laura when she sat on his spot. Natasha sat at the head of the table and they had left the other side opened for Steve, but he sat by her, facing Laura – though, his eyes were mostly on Natasha’s face.

“Alright,” Laura cleared her throat, raising her hands, “let us say grace.”

They all froze, well, all of them except Steve. He reached for Natasha’s hand hesitantly, raising his other hand for Phil to take.

Natasha glared at Laura but couldn’t ignore the flutter in her stomach when Steve’s hand wrapped around hers. “We never say grace.”

“Yeah,” Pete agreed, frowning as he licked his lips hungrily down at the food, “what’s up with that?”

She shrugged, grinning as she looked down at the entwined hands of her future Alphas. “Thought we could try something else tonight.”

“Well,” her voice came out tersely, rawer than she intended, “let’s not.”

Steve frowned, slowly pulling his hand away, but didn’t say anything. Natasha would be lying if she said she didn’t miss the warmth that he had just shared with her.

His fingers were calloused but gentle to the touch and _god_ , it felt like lightning struck her. As cliché as it sounded, his touch had felt like electricity coursing through her body. If Steve had felt it, he didn’t let on.

“Can we eat?” Pete all but whined, “I’m starving!”

“Go ahead! Dig in!”

Hands flew forward, trying to grab anything that was in reach and plates quickly became full of food. Steve had been a little hesitant but was encouraged by Nat’s smiles and Phil’s offerings.

“Nat made the bread,” Laura noticed the pleased look on Steve’s face when he took a bite of the roll and immediately began to embarrass her, “my recipe, but she did all the work.”

Steve smiled. His blue eyes flickered over to hers and she returned the small smile. “It’s very delicious.”

“She also made the chicken,” she winked, “you should have some.”

“Laura!” Natasha hissed, slightly aggravated. “Just let the man eat.”

“A good chef recommends the best dishes.”

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t fight the smile curling on her lips. The rest of the dinner was spent with small talk scattered here and there. They asked him more questions and she was happy to see that they were satisfied with his answers. _She_ was satisfied with his answers.

Their eyes kept meeting shyly, sneaking glances like a pair of secretive teenagers and she found that as the night went on, he became a little less tense. She found herself not paying enough attention to the conversation and more to the timbre of his voice. It was low and soothing, like smooth velvet and she dared say, almost seductive.

He probably didn’t mean it to sound like that, but she leaned just a smidge closer to him, her body inclined and fascinated with anything he had to say. He could have been reading a passage from the world’s most boring book and she’d probably be spellbound by it; all because of his voice.

“I hope you left room for dessert,” Laura sing-songed as Natasha helped her place the pies on the table. She carried a pint of vanilla ice cream on the other hand and a spoon to scoop it out. “Alpha Steve,” she turned to him, “we are going to introduce you to one of our family traditions.”

Steve raised an eyebrow, smiling in intrigue. “What is it?”

“We like to eat pie with ice cream,” Natasha shrugged simply, “it’s amazing.”

“It really is!” Peter groaned, watching as Laura cut up the pie in equal pieces and began to distribute it across the table. “Laura makes one of the best cherry pies ever.”

Natasha placed a piece of pie in front of Steve and he shot her a sweet smile. “Thank you.”

“Welcome,” she smiled back.

They waited for them to sit back down and an echo of pleased moans broke out through the dining room.

“This is what dreams are made of,” Peter muttered, stuffing his mouth with more pie as if it would disappear in the blink of an eye.

Steve agreed, nodding enthusiastically. It really was delicious. The slight warmth of the pie mixed deliciously well with the cold sweet ice cream. He could have eaten thirty more if they only offered.

After dessert, Peter and Matt offered to clean up the kitchen. They all gathered at the living room where Steve sat beside Natasha and fought his hardest to keep a few inches of distance between them. Her scent was truly intoxicatingly delicious, painfully so. It was going to drive him mad.

“Alpha Steve, will you be staying the night?” Melinda asked, brushing her hand over Phil’s as she looked over at the couple on the loveseat.

He turned to Natasha, as if to ask her if that would be okay.

“You should,” she smiled softly, “it’s really late. I’d feel better if you left during daylight.”

He chose to ignore the way his heart strummed pleased with her display of worry for his wellbeing.  “Okay.”

“I think we should call it a night.” Natasha stood up. “It’s been a long and exciting day for us.” They nodded in agreement and said their “goodnights.”

Natasha offered to walk Steve back to the guest house with the pretence of him not finding it. They both knew that he could, but he wouldn’t lie and say he _didn’t_ want to spend a few more seconds with her; he was a masochist, really.

“They like you.” She was the first one to break the silence.

He smiled. “I like them, too and it’s obvious they respect and love you.”

“They’re family,” she spoke softly, shrugging.

Steve cleared his throat, looking down at the cobblestone pathway to avoid looking into her eyes. “Would you like to meet my pack tomorrow?”

“I would.” Her smile widened and engraved it into his mind. Her eyes crinkled at the sides cutely, shining with emotion but he chose to blame it on the light of the moon.

Before he could say anything, his phone began to buzz in his pocket. He frowned, pulling it out. “Excuse me, I have to take this.”

Natasha nodded. “Yeah, no worries.” She turned her back to him, trying to give him so privacy and chose to admire the packhouse from afar.

It really was beautiful with three stories and large windows. Some parts used to be made from dark wood, but after the renovation, everything was coloured white. It seemed elegant and gave it allure, almost like a castle in the middle of the woods.

But at the same time, it lacked vigour, warmth. It didn’t have the laughter it used to have, the happy shrieks of kids running up and down the steps; it used to be the centre of the pack. It was better to spend time there than in their own homes.

Out of all the homes that surrounded the sea of trees only the guesthouse remained. She didn’t see the point in keeping a row of houses that wouldn’t be inhabited by anyone. Fury agreed and helped her demolish it. She donated the furniture to thrift stores or sold valuables to those who wanted it. No one would come back for them, they all had left her.

At the realisation that her thoughts had taken a dark turn, she sighed and turned back to Steve.

The relaxed posture he had all throughout dinner had disappeared. His face had hardened as he spoke on the phone and he pinched the bridge of his nose tiredly. After a few short murmurs, he ended the call and turned back to her.

“I’m sorry,” he sighed, “The Council sent someone to the pack and I need to meet with them.”

“This late?” She blurted out. “That’s…” her shoulders sagged, “sounds like The Council.”

He smiled, a cute lopsided smile that didn’t really reach his eyes. “My thoughts exactly. I have to go.”

“Okay.”

Was that disappointment in her voice? He wasn’t sure, but it damn well sounded like it.

“I will come back tomorrow if you still want to meet the pack…”

Natasha nodded. “I would like that.”

Steve hesitated, not sure how to express his goodbye. He didn’t want to leave, he wanted to take her with him and _keep_ her.

Luckily, she decided for him. She stood on her tiptoes, placing her hand on his cheek and gently kissed the corner of his mouth. “Bye, Steve.”

He wanted to kiss her, kiss her _badly_. Just wanted to envelop her in his arms and become drunk off  _her_. But he didn’t. He just nodded his head once, walked up to the guesthouse and gathered his things.

When he walked out, she was already gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think it'll be a few (maybe two?) more chapters until we get a bit of action between these two. It hurts me how slow it's taking me because I just want to write their smut *sigh* the perils of a perv, lmao. Hope y'all enjoyed! xx


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